His Lioness
by lovemelike
Summary: If Fíli was a lion, then she was his lioness and this is the story of their love. Both Hobbit and pre-Hobbit - AU mix of both movie and book. Rated M for sexual content in some chapters.
1. Dawn

**Author's Note:** My first fanfic ... ahahaha I'm a bit nervous. Please be nice. I'm considering writing a series of both Pre-Hobbit and Hobbit event one-shots with this couple instead of attempting to write a fully-fledged story because if I did that then I'd lose interest and it'd never get finished. Events will be slightly AU with a mix of both book and movie verses. Not all chapters will be smutty.

I was inspired to write a female dwarf character by these wonderful fics I've been following: Unyielding As Stone by Merciless Princess and Lady Firehammer by Remember How I Used To Be. You should check them out if you haven't already. I personally think there is too many elf hybrid/ultimate omnipotent being/human falling into the Middle Earth universe female character fics and not enough ones with a solid dwarven female character.

I actually thought up this scenario whilst developing a Kíli/OC fanfic. Oops. It's not my fault I fell in love with Fíli. I found myself having real trouble writing and developing Kíli's character whereas Fíli sort of came more naturally for me to write. Also, there is nowhere near enough Fíli fics out there to satisfy me. The best one I've stumbled across so far has been Nobility is Not a Birth-Right by mellowenglishgal - beautifully written but it's a torturous slow build.

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

**Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )**

_A little fun fact is that I found her name from the same poem Tolkien used for the other dwarf names :)_

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M  
(for very good reasons)**

* * *

There was a serene calm over the peaks of Ered Luin. The sun dawned over the distant horizon, kissing the sky with pink and orange hues, and a morning choir of birds filled the air with cheerful melody. With the arrival of a new day, the great fortress city of Belegost would soon begin to stir; the sounds of swords and axes would sing from the warrior grounds, the maze of merchant markets would be bustling with braying customers and the wild young children would play in the winding streets. The city would soon come alive with a symphony of sounds.

But for now… it was calm. And in the calm, Iarí sat astride Fíli's lap in the dark of his bedchamber.

The remnants of the previous nights fire still smoldered in the large stone hearth that was blackened with use. The dying flames cast a warm orange glow of firelight around the dark room for the sun's light had not yet crept through the window. The room was large but humble, holding only a few items of extravagance such as the large and elaborate dark oaken bed that dominated the room; with the royal crest carved ornately into its grand headboard, the soft linen mattress and pillows stuffed with downy feathers and the thick blankets and furs warm and inviting.

Iarí ran her slender fingers through Fíli's long golden mane, gently untangling the knots that had formed in the night. As her hands combed through his hair, she couldn't help but look upon him with a sweet smile. His eyes were closed, utterly relaxed with the sensation of her fingertips running softly over his scalp. A hum of a purr vibrated through his body. The faint dusting of hair that ran over his forearms, his chest and trailed down beneath the hem of his trousers gleamed golden in the firelight. His large hands, calloused and strong from his hard labours of training, traced tender patterns languidly up and down the soft flesh of her thighs as she began sectioning hair at his temples with practiced motions.

As her nimble fingers swiftly braided the first side of his hair into two plaits and secured them with decorative silver clasps, she felt his caressing ministrations bravely run higher up the outside of her thighs to the hem of his soft brown linen tunic that she was swathed in, concealing her nudity. His hands stilled, curling around the tops of her thighs under the tunic, but his thumbs continued in circling patterns, teasingly moving ever inwards.

It was incredibly distracting.

Having heard Iarí's soft breath catch in her throat briefly from a quick lapse in her composure, Fíli's lips tugged into a small victorious smile, not stopping his ministrations, the braids of his long moustache twitching as she began to braid the other side of his hair.

"I still don't understand Thorin's thinking, letting the both of you go." She said softly, breaking the comfortable silence, resuming the topic of last night's conversation. "If something were to go wrong… the line of Durin would be broken."

Fíli suppressed a sigh and opened his eyes to meet her warm gaze and to look upon his love. In the glow of the fire her hazel eyes smouldered amber. Her hair, dark in colour though lightened at the tips (sunkissed from her travels as a young girl), tumbled down her back in untamed curls that were still wild and unbraided from the night. She was beautiful. And she was his.

"Kili refused to be left behind. He wouldn't miss this chance to help Thorin reclaim our homeland."

"And you?" She asked coolly, not meeting his eyes and suddenly focusing a great deal on finishing the plait. She already knew his answer and although she was incredibly proud of him for it, she could not repress the pain in her heart. Fíli sighed, bowing his head so that she could braid a plait at the back.

"Someone has to keep him out of trouble." He replied with a slight teasing smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Iarí scowled at his stupid head, securing the final clasp into his stupid hair with a frustrated and forceful 'snap'. Fíli felt her tense on top of his lap and moved his hands from her thighs to her waist, holding her firmly as she tried to squirm off of his lap. She resigned quickly with a defeated huff, unable to break free of his strong arms.

He raised his head from her chest where the lacings of his tunic lay undone, brushing his long nose up and along her collarbone, his lips pressing soft kisses along the base of her neck until he felt the stubborn rigidness from her small frame melt away.

"Not fair. I have a right to be mad at you." Iarí chided as her head lolled back under his kisses, allowing him access to more skin. "You would so willingly see me left behind."

"I would see you _safe_." Fíli retorted, groaning into her shoulder.

Why would she not understand that the thought of her in harms way felt like a dagger to his heart? The quest for Erebor would be perilous. There was no guarantee of even living long enough to see the mountain. The Great East Road was not a safe path. The Lone-Lands past Bree crawled with orcs, the Misty Mountains teemed with goblins, and resenting elves dwelled in Mirkwood. Even if their journey proved to be safe and untroubled, there still was the matter of the dragon to deal with.

Iarí growled and wrenched his head up to face her, cupping the sides of his jaw, her eyes ablaze with wildfire. "You cannot expect me to sit idly by waiting for the day you return which may or may not come!"

Fíli looked into her eyes to see raw desperation looking back at him, glistening with the threat of tears. He was still as conflicted as the day he had been told of Thorin's quest. As the eldest Durin heir there had been no question as to whether or not he would accompany his uncle. The issue at hand was if Iarí could go with them. He didn't want to be parted from her, but neither did he want her to be in harms way. Either way, he thought darkly, there was a possibility that he would never see her again.

She leant her forehead against his, sighing, her hands skimming down his throat to rest on the tight muscles of his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her palms. Her eyes fluttered closed, fighting back tears. She could not bear to think of the heart beneath her hands never beating again.

"It would drive me mad not knowing if you were alive or dead."

Sensing Fíli's resolution begin to slip, she nuzzled her face into the base of his neck, pressing slow kisses into the smooth tan skin near her lips. She rolled her hips forward, shifting her body flush into his, her barely covered breasts pushing up against his naked chest. She had to fight back a satisfied smile when he hissed as their bodies pressed intimately together. She pressed her hands with force against his chest and pushed him down to lie back onto the bed.

Looming above him Iarí's eyes were dark and hooded, her hair cascading over her shoulders and brushing his chest. With another debauched roll of her hips she could feel Fíli's length harden beneath her, his jaw tensed as he bit back a moan. She lowered her head to the toned muscles of his stomach, moving her lips slowly up his chest, kissing and nipping and licking his skin, the slow torture feeding their passion.

She paused to look into his stormy blue eyes, laying flat against him. Her lips hovered above his, only a breath apart. He looked back at her through heavy lidded eyes, wanton desire dousing any suspicions of her motives. He drew a shaky breath in excited anticipation.

"Please, Fíli." Her lips whispered over his. "Don't leave me here. I'd rather die by your side then be left behind."

Fíli cursed inwardly as she pressed her soft lips against his with a tender kiss, her soft pleading voice tugged at his heart. As she pulled away he let his head fall back against the bedding, surrendering with a groan. "Not fair."

She sat upright, still firming straddling his lap, looking down on him with a smug triumphant smile. If only she had thought of that when they had first discussed the matter. They would have been spared a lot of heated arguments. She had forgotten that men could so easily be swayed with womanly wiles.

"Thorin won't like it." He warned her.

Iarí stifled a laugh. "Thorin called for warriors to aid his cause. I may be a woman, but I'm just as good as Kili with a bow. And I can certainly hold my own against _you _with a sword, my prince." She said proudly. "I'm not some weak _maiden_. Thorin shall count himself lucky for such a willing volunteer."

Fíli's low chuckle vibrated in his chest as he ran his hands over her hips. She was indeed an able fighter. The fact did ease some of his fears about the thought of her joining the quest. She had not only been taught how to defend herself by her father - a highly skilled blacksmith - but by soldiers of men and elves alike who had gladly entertained the notion of a little dwarven girl keen to learn how to fight; to be able to protect her father and her fragile mother when travelling the roads.

When her family arrived to settle in the Blue Mountains, at only thirty years old, Iarí had caused quite a commotion. As she had been raised on the road and in the villages of Men Iarí didn't retain, nor did she much care for the society customs that were upheld by the other dwarven women. The sour old dwarven matrons of the city had been aghast and were quick to see her isolated. Iarí hadn't cared.

But when the soldiers and the young warriors in training had tried to turn her away from the training fields, laughing, she had been outraged. She even faced down the fierce master at arms, Dwalin son of Fundin, demanding her right to be able to train. When he had told her that battle was not place for a woman, she had bet him that if she could best his most talented recruit her age then she would be allowed to practice when and as she pleased. The soldiers hadn't laughed at her when her opponent had landed on the flat of his back with her long-sword at his throat.

Fíli looked up at Iarí, whose gaze had drifted from his whilst he had mused, and was unashamedly leering at his naked torso with a familiar gleam in her eyes. He raised an eyebrow at her, his mouth hitching into a crooked smirk but she just smiled back sweetly, completely unabashed.

"If you come with me we'll have to behave ourselves... keep our distance." Fíli said regretfully, sitting back up, his hand brushing a lock of hair behind Iarí's ear and cupping her cheek. Understanding washed over her features as she nodded in silent agreement, nuzzling into his palm. "If we become careless then someone might suspect us."

Iarí nodded, holding his hand to her face and pressing a kiss into his rough palm. They both were well aware of the gravity of the situation. The true extent of their relationship could not be discovered. In the public eye they were to be seen as good friends only. It was only behind closed doors that they were free to revel in their love for each other. In the company the couple would have eyes on them at all times. There would be no privacy for the lovers on the road.

"Then let's make these last precious moments count, my love." She purred with a sinful smile.

Fíli captured her lips with a searing kiss, his cropped beard rough against her skin as his lips began to move against hers hungrily. Their slick tongues met together in her mouth, curling and entwining around each other in a familiar dance. She reached up, twining her hands into his golden hair once more, and held him closer.

He wasted no time to grab the hem of the tunic that separated their flesh, pulling it up and over her head, throwing it into the ground with a guttural growl and firmly cupping the curve of her backside. Without warning he lifted her up from the bed and rolled her beneath him, pulling away from her kiss so that he could devour the tantalizing sight of her naked body pinned beneath him. She felt her cheeks burn and blush under the intensity of his gaze.

Fíli lowered his head with a predatory look in his eyes. His hot breath raised chills on her skin as he crawled slowly down her body, ghosting his lips over her skin in slow sensual kisses, taking time to appreciate every inch of her that he touched. Wetness pooled between her legs, a blissful heat throbbed in her lower abdomen. She trembled beneath him with excitement, whimpering quietly as his lips reached the juncture of her thighs. She gasped as his lips closed around her pink flesh, his tongue running up along her lower lips, dipping inside her core and lapping at her swollen nub.

Years ago when they had first started coupling she had once been appalled at the idea of him kissing her in such a place, his tongue licking her out and his lips covered with her juices, thinking it to be such a dirty and taboo act. He had practically begged her to let him do it, assuring her that she'd love every second of it… and he hadn't been wrong.

A wanton moan escape from her lips as he thrust his forefinger into her core, curving and stroking her inner wall with rapid ministrations. As his warm tongue swirled around her button and he added another finger to his cause, Iarí tossed her head from side to side, panting wildly as her hands fisted into his hair, her hips bucking against his hand that held her in place. The sensation of his rousing tongue felt glorious and she could gladly revel in it forever, but time wasn't on their side. She needed him inside her. _Now_.

"_Fíli."_

At the soft mewl of his name he looked up at her with hooded blue eyes. She lunged forward desperately and pulled him roughly back up to her lips, their mouths crashing together with the sweet tart taste of her juices on his tongue.

She reached between their writhing bodies, trailing down the muscles of his stomach and nimbly unlaced his trousers, freeing him. She wrapped her fingers around his throbbing erection and massaged the perfect length of him in her palm. He groaned in her mouth at the feel of her soft hand firm around his hardness and rocked her to lie back down on the bed, draping his body over hers. She drew her legs up and locked her ankles around his waist as she guided him to the slick folds of her entrance.

His breath hitched as he pushed his length inside of her, pulling him in as far as he could go. Her legs trembled and her muscles clenched around him, welcoming him. He gazed into her eyes, his forehead pressed against hers, drawing out of her only to thrust into her again more forcefully. She rolled her hips and whimpered, digging her heels into his backside, urging him on; wordlessly begging for a rougher pace that he was all too willing to oblige. As they found their rhythm the sounds of skin against skin joined the chorus of her quiet mewls and his low groans and filled the quiet of the room.

Consumed with the waves of pleasure he sent rushing through her body, her eyes fell shut as she clung to him, holding him as close as physically possible, her fingernails clawing into the firm contours of his back. He buried his head into the crook of her neck, kissing and biting the delicate skin, desperation and desire filling every fibre of his being. When his tongue swirled over the sensitive spot under her ear, a cry of pleasure fell from her parted lips. He thrust into her faster and she raised her hips up to meet him stroke for stroke, her walls gripping at him tighter and tighter with every deft move.

She could feel the burn of her impending bliss building and building, her body tensing as she rode higher, inching closer to that sweet release she desperately craved. Fíli's deep blue eyes locked in her gaze as she moved her hands to take hold of his face, her fingertips tracing over every line and contour of his handsome features, burning them to her memory.

Knowing what she needed he reached down between where their bodies pounded together, his fingers strumming her inflamed nub relentlessly. The pressure in her lower body built to its pinnacle; the tether holding her together snapped and she came undone. He smothered her loud cries of ecstasy with his lips as the waves of pleasure crashed over her, thrusting deeper and harder into her as she convulsed around him. Feral growls rose from deep inside his chest as he followed her over the edge, meeting his own sweet oblivion.

He fell on top of her, blissfully spent and sated. His head rested on her breasts, rising and falling with her chest as she tried in vain to catch her breath. Her eyelids struggled to stay open, her body still humming and her mind still in paradise while she stroked at his long golden mane absentmindedly. As her coherency slowly broke through her post-climax haze, she glanced down to his mussed up locks on her chest with a furrowed brow, the corners of her lips turning down in a pout before she exhaled a disgruntled sigh.

"I'm gonna have to do your hair again."

* * *

**Author's Note: **There are a couple of things I want to explain...

Firstly, the dwarven women in this AU don't have beards, but they do pride their hair as much as the men pride their beards - decorating their hair with fine jewels, ornaments and elaborate hairstyles. I also wanted this idea of some dwarf women being matriarchs and holding a lot of influence over the female society.

Because Iarí wasn't born directly into the dwarven society she wears her hair much more simple but I don't want to really go into too much detail about her hair style because I have a scenario in my head for a future chapter and I don't wanna ruin it because it's quite adorable. I'm also planning a lot of chapters about how Fíli and Iarí met and how their relationship developed.

Another thing I'm imprinting onto this dwarven society idea is that any physical relations before wedlock are severely frowned upon. I'm under the impression that dwarves are supposed to love only once in their lifetime and so I'm making it so that the woman are expected to remain maidens until they are married. Once married, the couple are together until death. I'm running with this idea so that it brings a dynamic to Fíli and Iarí's relationship as it's one of the reasons that they're keeping it secret. There are a couple of other reasons, but I'm not too sure if I'll be explaining them in a different chapter. Whilst the woman are virtuous, the men are allowed their brothels and tavern wenches and whatnot before marriage. However it's deemed dishonourable if a dwarven male who is either married or courting a woman is caught with his pants down.

**Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think x**


	2. Bag End

**Author's Note: **Writing this chapter created a scenario for a heart-wrenching chapter that I'll be writing next. If I get it down right then it should be beautiful.

I just would like to say that these chapters will NOT be in chronological order… at all. I don't know I could probably eventually sort them out chronologically when I'm finished but at the moment I'm writing them as I find the inspiration for certain chapters.I currently have about 8 potential scenario/chapters planned but none are set in stone until I actually start writing them.

Little more about Iarí's appearance in this and also a little more about her background. I'm almost done with a character design for her (I'm actually a fashion student so I couldn't resist) and I've put in excruciating detail into her outfit but it's some of my best digital work and I'm so so proud of what I've done thus far. When it's completed I'll put in a link to it in a chapter of it's own for you guys so you can get a better visual of her.

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED K**

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The tinkling chime of the front door bell rang throughout the hallways of the cosy hobbit hole. Bilbo's visitors apparently didn't hear it for they didn't pause their loud rambunctious laughter and chatter. Bilbo sighed with exasperation, knowing it could possibly be another dwarf. He secretly prayed that it wasn't, (for there were far too many in his house already) and perhaps it was a fellow hobbit, come to complain about the level of unruly noise currently emitting from his kitchen that could quite certainly be heard throughout Hobbiton. Stomping his furry feet, he marched to the front door and yanked it open roughly. His patience with dwarves had worn thin and he just wanted the infernal night to end so that he could have his house back and some peace and quiet.

Bilbo's scowl of annoyance disappeared as he took in the sight of a lady standing in the doorway and thanked the Valar that it wasn't another dwarf.

"I am so terribly sorry for the din, Miss." Bilbo blurted out just as the lady was about to open her mouth. "But there are _dwarves_ in my house! I don't even know what they're doing here, they just turned up out of the blue and made themselves at home! They've completely cleaned out my pantry, they're loud and they're rude and I promise you they'll leave just as soon as I can get them to!"

The lady stared back at him a little startled, wide eyed and blinking at his rambling apology, before breaking out into a broad grin.

"This must be the right place then."

She stepped forward into the threshold, smiling softly in amusement at the bewildered hobbit who shuffled back awkwardly to let her in and closed the door behind her. With slender fingers she unfastened the hooded fur-lined cloak from around her neck and passed it to Bilbo who stared at her with furrowed brows; his eyes darting as he inspected her in greater detail. She unstrapped a large sheathed sword from her back and placed it gently into Bilbo's arms, along with a curved wooden bow and a quiver full of black feather fletched arrows.

She was a _dwarf_, Bilbo suddenly realized with disbelief. _A female dwarf_!

He had never imagined female dwarves to be so pretty. He had even heard rumors that dwarven woman grew beards and were often mistaken for men! But yet her skin was smooth and hairless and as pale as fresh cream. Her features were more angular than those of hobbit-girls; her nose was long and her cheekbones were sharp and tinted pink from the cool evening air. Unlike the broad and stocky dwarf men that occupied his house she had a lithe and striking figure with a slender waist. She held herself with a confident bearing; her back straight and her head was held high as she looked about the room.

Out the corner of his eye Bilbo noticed the young dwarf with the dark hair and rugged beard emerge from the smoking room, tucking his pipe back into his coat and stopped in his tracks as he spotted the new arrival.

"Iarí!"

Bilbo watched as the lady turned to the call of what must have been her name, beaming at the other dwarf in recognition. They rushed towards each other and he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug and spun her around in the air. She giggled excitedly before letting out a sharp yelp.

"Ouch, Kíli. Kíli stop! Stop!" She protested, pushing at his shoulders and trying to free herself from his vice like grip. Kíli stopped spinning abruptly, his face falling with a concerned frown as he set her back down to her feet and unwrapped his arms quickly from around her waist.

"Forgot one." She explained to the crestfallen looking dwarf, reaching behind her back. Her hand tucked underneath the thick wolf's fur gilet she wore and pulled out an impressive looking knife from its hidden sheath. She turned back to where Bilbo stood and set it in his arms with her other dangerous looking items.

Fíli appeared in the round archway of the parlour with his delicately carved brass-capped pipe between his lips. It was one of the few ostentatious items that he carried. He portrayed his nobility and royal heritage in his bearing rather than to burden himself with useless proud raiment or trinkets. Iarí smiled at him coyly as he offered her a tankard of ale.

"Is there any food left or have you lads devoured it all?" She quipped, arching a dark eyebrow at him with a smirk. As she took the tank from him her eyes darted down to where her hand brushed his, the light contact left a familiar warm sensation that spread beneath her fingertips. As she met his gaze she could see his adoration burning in his eyes, silently welcoming her.

"You missed out on supper, but there should be a little left."

"Is everyone here?" She asked, following Fíli and Kíli through the parlour and into the kitchen where Dwalin and Balin were in deep discussion. They bowed their heads to her in welcome as Fíli and Kíli went about finding some food. The stern master at arms, her mentor and friend, smiled at her proudly. She felt a little relief at his approval. She had been fretting none stop since leaving Belegost that she would receive a severe reprimanding for her bold and impromptu attendance. She may have received Dwalin's approval, but she was still yet to face Thorin. She felt uneasy just imagining his reaction. She raised the tankard to her lips and took a large gulp of ale.

"We're still waiting on Thorin. He shouldn't be much longer." Kíli answered, piling some sausages and ham onto a plate whilst Fíli passed her a couple of small bread rolls. He could see that she was nervous but the only comfort he could offer her was touching the small of her back lightly, guiding her into the the dining room where she sat down at the table to eat her makeshift meal.

She greeted the other members of the company each in turn. Gandalf, who didn't seem the least bit surprised to learn that she had invited herself on the quest, smiled down at the dwarven girl fondly as he puffed on his long curved pipe.

She didn't voice her shock that Ori was amongst the dwarves. For Ori was a gentle soul, even younger than Kíli, who preferred the likes of books and art than battle and fighting. But apparently Thorin had allowed him to join the company so that he could chronicle the events of the quest. Even though his two elder brothers, the mothering Dori and the roguish Nori accompanied him, Iari still feared for her safety of her young friend. After all he had only a slingshot and a small knife to protect himself with.

Whilst she ate, Fíli and Kíli filled her in on the company's mischief before she had arrived. Iari couldn't help but laugh and roll her eyes when they told her how they'd thrown about Bilbo's mothers' finest crockery acrobatically; almost causing the poor hobbit to keel over in anxiety, and singing as they did.

As Iari swallowed the last morsel of her meal and washed it down with a swig of ale, a loud and strong knock at Bilbo's door reverberated throughout the home. Bilbo looked alarmed from his perch in the corner as the merry chatter died and a silence fell about the room like a thick fog. The dwarves looked around at each other in a solemn anticipation. Iari shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Fíli offered her a small smile of comfort, his hand reaching under the table -hidden from prying eyes- and rubbed her knee soothingly.

"He's here."

As the circular door opened with a creak, Thorin looked into the hobbits warm home and up at the grey wizard who stood in its entrance.

"Gandalf." He greeted, offering a small smile and striding into the entrance hall. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way…twice." He bowed his head to Dori, Ori and Dwalin peering in from the archway of the parlour and they inclined their heads in return, muttering their greetings. "Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for the mark on the door."

With a tug at the clasp, the heavy cloak he wore fell from around his shoulders, revealing his richly embroidered tunics and thick fur-trimmed coat; the diamond, centred in his ornate belt, glimmered in the warm light of the room. He looked to each dwarf who had filled the entrance hallway to welcome him and smiled when his eyes found his nephews. If Thorin had been shocked or surprised to see Iarí standing in front of Fíli, then it didn't show.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!" Bilbo blustered as he pushed through the crowd of dwarves to try and inspect it for himself and disprove the allegation against his lovely, freshly painted door.

"There _is_ a mark, I put it there myself," Gandalf said apologetically, glancing down at Bilbo as he closed it behind him. "Bilbo Baggins…allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

"So… this is the hobbit. " Thorin said, looking down at Bilbo with a slight amusement and crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. He tilted his head to the side and began to circle the hobbit slowly, his hand on the hilt of his large sword at his hip, inspecting him. He didn't look too impressed. "Tell me, Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?"

"Axe or sword? Which is your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I do have some skill with conkers, if you must know," Bilbo said finding some pride as he puffed his chest and straightened his back trying to meet Thorin's taller stature before faltering under Thorin's imperious gaze and shifted nervously. "But I fail to see… why that's relevant."

Iarí felt a stir of pity for the hobbit. She had been on the receiving end of Thorin's scrutiny before and it wasn't a comfortable place to be.

"I thought as much," Thorin remarked with a smirk, glancing over his shoulder to the dwarves collected behind him. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

The dwarves chuckled with low laughter, making their way to the dining room once more whilst Bilbo scowled at their retreating backs.

Thorin turned to follow Kíli into the hallway to the dining room and he looked to Iarí, who felt herself trapped in the weight of his gaze. His eyes, -blue and grey like a stormy sea- appeared calmed and collected. She wanted to shrink and hide as he neared her, fiddling nervously with the cuff of her brown leather vambrace and worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she anticipated his anger or even worse: disappointment.

"Dis would have my head if she knew you were here." He muttered pointedly. Iarí, slightly abashed, nodded her head in a demure apology. The dwarf-king just smiled down at her with pride and stroked the back of her hair as a silent understanding passed between them.

When Iarí's mother had died of consumption, for her health had always been fragile, her father had spun into a deep depression. He became cold and bitter and a stranger to Iarí's eyes. As she resembled her mother, it hurt him to look at her so he never stayed in her presence for too long. He spent hours at the taverns on the lower levels and sometimes did not even return home from the night. She did not dare think about what he could have been doing. No matter what she did, or how she tried to help, he did not change. The doting father she had known had died with her mother. In his wake was an angry and shameful drunk.

His once fine craftsmanship suffered greatly and eventually he abandoned his forge. With no income from work he turned to gambling to earn money for his drinking. Debts that he could not pay piled and the broken family were on the brink of destitution. More than once had she been threatened with having her body used as payment. But she was a warrior and she fought back.

Under the influence of Brullyra -the sour dwarven matron who resented Iarí and her rebellious, improper ways- no dwarven woman would have taken Iarí in. Even her mother's dearest friends would have turned her away if she had asked. But even in her darkest days, Iarí had never asked anyone for help, she had been far too stubborn.

When Dis, sister of Thorin, had found out about Iarí's sorrows she had implored Thorin to take the girl in as a ward, for Thorin had no children of his own. She had feared that Iarí would've had to succumb to working at the taverns or brothels. Dis had always adored the wild female that was a close friend to her sons and she had always treated her like a daughter. Under the persistent duress of his sister Thorin had agreed and Iarí hadn't looked back since. She didn't even know if her father was dead or alive anymore.

Whether he knew it or not, Thorin had saved her life.

Fíli made it worth living.

Her resolution for the quest never felt fiercer. The journey would be perilous but there was no turning back. Not for her. She would gladly die to see the Durin line reclaim Erebor.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This one's a shorter chapter... I guess it might just be a filler chapter? Idk.

A few things:

Even though Iarí was incredibly poor, she never starved. She had her bow and she hunted in the forest at the base of the mountains at night. She would sometimes sell animals to the butchers to get some money (very Hunger Games I know) but her father would take any money she earned for drinks and whores. Her father even one tried to make her sell her weapons but she slapped him round the head for that… it didn't end well. But more details on that will be in another chapter!

Clearing up some age technicalities here: In the events of the Hobbit (the year being **2941**) Iarí is 80 years old - this means that Fíli is 2 years older than her and Kíli is 3 years younger. In any chapters that are events before the Hobbit I will state how old people everyone is in the beginning Author's Note :)

**Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think x**


	3. Broken

**Author's Note:** *sobs* I don't think I did this chapter enough justice.

***Pre-Hobbit Chapter***

Fíli: Just turned 75 years old  
Iarí: 72 years old  
Kíli: 69 years old

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED T  
(language and suggestions of violence)**

* * *

The Axe and Hammer was accustomed to the business of warriors; it was a popular establishment for the parched and the sore for it stood conveniently across the road from the training grounds. It was a honourable tavern, unlike some that plagued the streets of the lower levels, and was ran by the innkeeper Barad; an old solider who had lost his arm in the Battle of Azanulbizar, and his eldest daughter Helda; who was always happy to serve the brave, noble and handsome young warriors.

When the sun had set and the gates of the arena were closed for the day, the warriors wandered the short distance to seek the comforts of a cool tank of ale and a hot meal. A crisp chill had haunted the air with the foreboding feel of winter and many were eager to heat their thick calloused fingers by the hearth. The alehouse was crowded nightly with drunken rowdy dwarven men; the air thick with teasing and jesting as they often battled each other in drinking contests and belching contests to uproars of cheers.

When the evening wore on the striplings who eagerly guzzled weak cider were often the first to leave, spurred by stern glares from their elders. Then the dwarves who had wives and families waiting for them flitted back to their homes -secretly praying to Mahal that they weren't too drunk to deserve their wives wrath- leaving behind the unmarried and of age.

Fíli sat at a large bench surrounded by his friends and nursed a half-drunk tank of ale. He was quiet and lost in his thoughts as his companions roared with laughter, watching Ori choke and sputter on his first pint of strong ale, having just celebrated his 47th birthday. Dori patted the young dwarf hastily on his back as he wiped the foam from his wispy ginger moustache with the sleeve of his knitted cardigan; abashed blush flooding his freckled cheeks.

Ori had come down from his usual dwelling in the libraries to practice with his small knife and slingshot under his brother's instruction. Uncomfortable and intimated, he had spent most the day trailing after Fíli and Kíli like a lamb that had lost its mother.

Gloin sat back down at the table after having to forcibly remove his young son Gimli from the building and escort him home for his bedtime. From the look his face -as red as his long russet bead- he had received a sharp lecture from his wife not to be too late home himself. Dwalin was telling lewd stories to the other elders that had Nori spurting out his ale and Bofur falling from his seat with hysterical giggles. Kíli was shamelessly winking at Helda who had been swooning over him since he had walked in. Fíli could tell that his brother held no real interest for her, just the free ale that she was offering him.

He took a small sip of his ale. Iarí hadn't showed at training at all that day and restlessness had wrought inside the pit of his stomach at her absence. It wasn't like her. She never missed practice.

He was worried. Since her mother's death some years ago he had noticed that she had begun to smile less and less. And even then, more times than not, they were forced and without emotion. Recently he had been straining to get a full conversation out of her. She was withdrawn and detached. It was as if the fire within her was slowly fading and she was becoming an empty shell of the person he knew. She had built an emotional barrier and let no one in… even Fíli.

He dared to say that he missed her. He missed her infectious laughter and her witty retorts. He missed the way she would light up when she saw him and the proud little smile on her lips when she would beat him in a spar. He even missed the way she would lean against his shoulder and flick at his moustache braids when she was bored. He knew something was wrong with her but whenever he asked she would divert her gaze and just answer with a vague "I'm fine". When he had persisted she had snapped and growled and stormed away, cursing him and his incessant harassment.

Kíli had noticed the gradual change in her behaviour as well and shared his brothers concerns but when they had asked their elders for advice they had been told that it was probably just some female problem and they would be best to keep out of it. Fíli envied his brother. Somehow Kíli was still able to laugh and act as if their best friend was fading away. _He_ didn't spend his days constantly worrying. _He_ wasn't sitting there quietly and brooding._ He_ wasn't haunted by the shadow that was Iarí. Fíli didn't understand how Kíli was seemingly coping with it easier much more than he seemed to be. She was both their closest friend, and had been since she had arrived. They had been drawn to the fierce and pretty dwarven girl like dragons to gold.

_Pretty_. Fíli almost snorted. He saw the way some of the lads looked at her with hungry eyes. Striplings half her age would puff their chests and try to show off for her attentions when she was near. The lads their age, however, were far more troublesome and their intentions were far less innocent. Whenever a new lad approached Iarí it had never failed to send a wave of overprotectiveness rush over him. They would talk to her and she would allow them to engage; listening and responding to what they had to say politely but then, more often than not, they would then get overconfident, mistaking her politeness for interest and would pursue her with offers of courtship. Fíli always found himself smirking when they marched away with their pride in tatters after she would not so tactfully reject them. They had deluded themselves into thinking that they could handle Iarí. They were all so enraptured with her appearance and her skill that none of them really knew her. Not like he did.

He knew what they saw though. They saw the beautiful dwarven maiden who was a vivacious and fiery female-warrior; with her fair face, lithe figure, piercing eyes and her long mane of soft curls she was a fine prize to be won. Even Fíli, more often than what was deemed appropriate, had caught his gaze lingering over the curves of her body…

Fíli got to his feet, abandoning his tankard, and muttered an excuse about being tired and going home before saying his goodbyes. Kíli had been too drunk to be concerned. Fíli had been acting strange all day and Kíli had quickly grown tired of his elder brother's brooding, opting instead for more fun company.

As Fíli left the warmth of tavern he felt himself inhale deeply as if he had been holding his breath. The evening sky above him was inky black and speckled with stars. As his feet prepared to take him home a loud noise caught his attention. He honed in to the location of the sound and spotted the wooden door to the training fields swinging open and shut in the wind. He crossed the road to the door with the intention to shut it firmly and continue on home but as his fingers gripped around the cold iron handle a flicker of light from within caught his attention.

Far out in the middle of the first field, two torches had been raised and lit, their orange glow illuminating the patch of ground around a straw dummy where a small figure slashed and stabbed at it with frenzied hacking. They were too far away and had their back to him for Fíli's eyes to make out the identity of the figure but deep in his gut he already knew who it was.

"Iarí!" He called out to her, striding over to her as she raised her sword high above her head, bringing it down against the dummy and swiping it's straw head clean off its shoulders with a feral roar. She didn't still or turn as she continued mauling the target with her blade. Her loose dark curls flailed over her shoulder, her grunting and yelling echoed as she swung her long sword viciously over and over again at the already heavily mutilated target. Although her opponent was inanimate, she was fighting like her life depended on it.

"Iarí!" He called once more as he closed the distance between them.

This time he was heard.

Iarí spun on her heels with a furious howl, her sword outreached and seeking blood, slashing the air between their bodies as if it were an extension of her arm; her eyes were livid as if ablaze with dragonfire. Fíli flinched, stopping in his tracks as the sharp tip of the blade sliced across the fabric over his chest.

Recognition replaced the fury as she comprehended who her intruder had been and who stood before her. Her gaze darted to his chest where the blade had torn through the layers of his clothes and she paled; her eyes wide with horror that she had attacked him. The offending item slipped from her white knuckled fingers and dropped to the ground with a harsh metallic clang. Her body trembled violently with shaky breaths.

If he had been any closer then she would have sliced through his chest…

If her arm had been any higher then she would have slit his throat…

She could have_ killed _him.

Fíli watched, speechless from shock, as slow silent tears rolled down her cheeks. His brow furrowed as he realized that she had been crying long before he had gotten there; her eyes were already red and bleary. The sight of her tears made his heart began to race and he knew something was terribly wrong. His eyes traced over her face in alarm. The skin around her left eye was mottled red and purple with an angry looking bruise, her brow was marred with a deep gash that had just begun to crust and trails of blood stained the side of her face.

"What happened?!" He barked, closing the small distance between them, rage and panic consumed him. She remained silent, swallowing thickly as more traitorous tears swam in her eyes. She stared up at him with such anguish that his heart constricted painfully in his chest.

"Who did this to you?" He murmured, pleading for answers. He reached up and captured her damaged face gently between his hands, stroking a stray tear from her cheek softly with his thumb.

The desperation in his voice clung to her heart like a heavy weight, the concern flaming in his eyes made her feel weak beneath his gaze and his tender touch shattered the barrier that she had built around herself for the past two years.

She threw her arms around his neck, clutching to him with every fibre of her being as she began to cry. He froze, briefly stunned with the sensation of her embrace, before wrapping his arms tightly around her. He lowered their entwined bodies to the floor, sitting cross-legged and pulling her into his lap. She curled into him, burying her face into his chest and her hands fisted into his coat as she wept. Violent sobs racked her body as she let out all her pain in howls and bitter angry tears.

Fíli sat there with arms holding her tightly against his chest as she cried; one hand stroking her hair whilst the other ran up and down the contours of her back in an attempt to soothe and comfort her. He had never seen her like this before. Not even when her mother died had she been this utterly broken. He was desperate to find out what, or _who_ had caused Iarí this much pain but he just sat there silently on the cold ground, holding her.

He didn't know how much time had passed but slowly her tears began to subside. She stayed curled comfortably in his lap with no intention of moving. Her breathing hitched as her fingers traced along the long cut across the fabric. She had inspected the cut with severe scrutiny for any sign of a mark but although her sword had sliced through all the layers of his clothing, it hadn't even grazed his skin.

Fíli closed his eyes, resting his cheek on her head, with the feel of her gentle touch on his chest. A feeling of warmth stirred in the pit of his stomach and he held her to him tighter. They had never before been this close, this… _intimate_. Although she was crying and he was burning with desperation for answers as to why, he couldn't help but realise that she felt _right_ in his arms

Since Fíli had gotten older his mother had taken up a new hobby of introducing him to as many eligible maidens as possible, in hope that he would find a potential wife among them. He had never taken an interest; their hair was too light or their eyes were to dull or their laugh just sounded all wrong. They would curtsey and flirt and blush, dressed in their finest gowns and jewels like peacocks but none had any fire, any spark of life within them; they were far too passive, too nice and too eager to please, their interests were trivial and their lives were dull. He didn't like the way they all stared at him. Like he was a heap of glittering gold. The ambition always gleamed in their eyes when their proud fathers and pushy mothers presented them in front of him, for they all dreamed of ensnaring the heart of the dwarven prince, Heir of Durin, and becoming 'Queen Under the Mountain'.

When Iarí finally spoke, her voice was raw and hollow.

She told him everything; how the grief from her mother's death had filled her father with darkness; how he had abandoned his forge to ruin and how he squandered all their money on drink and whores. She told him of how her father had sold or gambled everything of worth in their house and how she had had to bury her mother's jewellery and her items of sentimental valuable in the forest to save it from his clutches. She told him, with a quiet voice, that when he had no money to pay the men he owed, he had offered them to take their money's worth from her _body._

The thought of someone defiling her as payment set his teeth on edge and Fíli had to focus on the feel of Iarí in his arms to prevent him from hunting down the bastards then and there. He was somewhat reassured when she told him how she had fought and no one had touched her. Then she told him how that morning her father had begged her to sell her weapons to pay off his latest, largest debt to a notorious thug. When she had outright refused he had turned angry and vicious and had struck her. She had spent the day aimlessly wandering the forests beyond the city limits for she could not bare to show her beaten face in public.

A bitter wind cut through the air and Iarí shivered into Fíli's chest. Without another word he hooked his arm under the crooks of her knees and lifted her into his strong arms, rising from the ground. No protests came from her lips for she was weak and tired from overexerting herself; she just wound her hands around his neck.

The streets were deserted and bathed in the silvery glow of moonlight as Fíli followed the road home with Iarí tucked safely in his arms. As he walked he felt her hold around his neck loosen and her breathing slow as she drifted into sleep, unconsciously nuzzling her face into his neck and inhaling the warm and delicious scent of his skin.

The lantern that hung outside the doorway of his home was still lit. Dis had waited up for her son, who hadn't returned home with his brother, and had wrenched open the door angrily before Fíli had reached for the handle. Her mouth was open, ready to shout and scold her son until her gaze fell upon the form curled asleep in his arms. The gash and blood were clear on Iarí's face and Dis looked up at her son with quizzical concern, moving aside and beckoning him to enter quickly.

"I'll get a bowl of water," Dis told him softly, closing and locking the door shut behind her before disappearing swiftly into the kitchen.

Fíli made his way upstairs, carefully trying not to jostle the sleeping girl, and nudged open the last door on the right with the toe of his boot. He settled her small body onto the middle of his large bed, pulling back the blankets and furs from under her legs and unwrapping her hands from around his neck. He unbuckled her boots and slid them off her feet, placing them on the floor by the bed. Dis appeared with a bowl of water and cloth, handing them to Fíli before promptly lighting a fire in the large stone hearth.

He soaked the cloth with the warm water and wrung it before gingerly placing it to her skin, washing away the dried blood. She didn't stir as he stroked a few strands of hair from her face and cleansed the gash on her eyebrow, applying a salve to it to prevent infection.

Dis watched her eldest son as he treated Iarí with such care and tenderness. As he covered her with the warm blankets and furs, Dis smiled to herself as she left the room.

Fíli sat on the edge of the bed by Iarí's side. In her sleep she looked young and peaceful and he couldn't resist lightly cupping her jaw and brushing his thumb across her cheek.

"I've missed you…" He whispered, his brows furrowing as a whirl of unnamed emotions washed over him. Iarí sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her side facing Fíli, nuzzling into the soft feather pillow and tucking her hands underneath it.

"_I've missed you too_."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I originally intended this chapter to end when they were together in the fields but then Fíli decided that he wanted take her home, look after her and see her safe in bed *naww*

Dis totally ships them.

Fíli spent the night in his brother's room where Kíli was sprawled out unceremoniously half naked on the bed (No Durincest! There is only brotherly love in this fic!) and drunkenly snoring like Bombur paha. He was really startled when he awoke to find Fíli in his bed in the morning.

**Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think x**


	4. Saviour

**Author's Note:** I think my mind is trying to tell me that I should be focusing on college coursework instead of fanfiction because I really struggled with getting this chapter out :/ It probably sucks but ... best I could do unfortunately. I'll write better chapters to make up for this one I swear.

It's just a short little chapter and it's sort of following on from the events of Chapter 3. As will the next chapter. I just really feel like I need to get these chapters out before focusing on more action packed ones. (some lovely smut is also on it's way soon I promise)

***Pre Hobbit Chapter***

Thorin: 153 years old  
Dis: 139 years old

***Flashback ages*  
**Fíli: 32 years old  
Iarí: 30 years old  
Kíli: 27 years old

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED K**

* * *

Thorin sat in the comfort of the wide armchair in his quarters, his hand stroking his dark cropped beard as he processed the grave news he had just been informed of.

"You're certain?"

His sister stood before him, her thick raven hair braided intricately at the nape of her neck with clasps of silver and sapphires and her hands folded in front of the long skirts of the fine embroidered blue dress she wore. The years had been far kinder to his sister than he; the corners of her eyes were crinkled from her frequent smiles, her hips were rounder from the birth of her sons and her hair was still dark and rich in colour. She nodded solemnly. She had come to her brother shortly after the midday meal, urgently seeking to speak with him before he left for council. Thorin hadn't refused her for she had looked so severely troubled.

"I saw her face, Thorin." She said softly, a strong conviction in her voice and a distress in her eyes as she recalled the sight in her mind. "Fíli told me everything. You know your nephew, he wouldn't lie."

_No_, Thorin thought, _Fíli wouldn't lie, not on matters as grave as this_.

Dwarves were fiercely loyal and protective of their own; the bond of blood ran strong through their race. Violence within a family was almost unheard of. Even then a rarity of an occurrence was often spurred from a petty sibling disagreement and was soon resolved without serious injury. Parents would sometimes discipline their children with a sharp hand to the backside, yes, but never had Thorin heard of a father sadistically striking his child.

"She shouldn't have to suffer any longer at the hands of her father, Thorin." Dis said, stirring him from his thoughts. "If she stays there, she would fall even further into desolation and stay victim to her fathers' madness. Who knows what dark fate may befall her."

Thorin silently agreed. From what he had heard her situation was already dire. The foolish girl had been too stubborn to tell anyone of her misfortunes.

* * *

_The market was bright and bustling; the stalls were adorned with bright cloths of fabric, the traders cheerfully shouted their wares to passing customers and the colourful jewels braided in the women's hairstyles sparkled in the midday sun. It was midsummer and the sky was cloudless, the air stifling. The children of the market were gathered around the stone fountain, playing in the cool water._

_Fíli, Kíli and Iarí sat relaxing around the edge of the fountain with their heavy boots abandoned and their bare feet in the cool water. It had been mutually agreed that it was far too warm a day for combat. Iarí paddled her feet lazily back in forth in the clear water, the skirts of her dress hitched up in her lap and her pale slender legs on show. She leant back on her hands, closing her eyes and tilting her head back with her face skyward, soaking up the pleasant sun and enjoying the coolness of the water on her skin. Kíli had collected a bunch of small rocks and was throwing them, watching them skim across the surface of the water. Fíli was bored._

_It was to irresistible when Kíli bent over to fish around the bottom of the pool for rocks that Fíli swiftly raised his foot and kicked him in the rear, jolting his unsuspecting younger brother off balance and causing him to fall face forward into the water with a loud splash. Kíli emerged, spluttering and gasping. The cute and beardless young dwarf glared furiously, his large brown eyes narrowed into slits at his brother; his dark shoulder length hair plastered to his face and his light tunic and trousers soaked and dripping. Iarí and Fíli fell over cackling._

_Kíli lunged at his brother with a battle cry, knocking him from his stone perch and tackling him to the ground. Iarí laughed even harder at Fíli's wide eyes and startled expression as he found himself flying through the air. The cries of their skirmish and the uncontrollable laughter sounded loudly throughout the market. The surrounding children all watched the wrestling lads, tittering and cheering loudly at the spectacle._

_"Kíli you hit like a girl!" Fíli taunted, between bursts of laughter. Kíli scowled and beat his furious little fists into whatever part of Fíli he could hit, sending sprays of water as he shook his wet head furiously in his brothers' face._

_"HEY!" Iarí shouted abruptly stopped laughing, incredibly offended. "I'm a girl and when I come over there and punch you in the face then you'll see just how hard a girl can hit!"_

_She strode forward, ready to throw herself into the fray when a loud authoritative voice boomed from behind her._

_"ENOUGH!"_

_The trio froze. Fíli's arms held Kíli's small head in a loose chokehold with his knuckles poised and ready to ruffle his brothers' hair mercilessly. Their eyes went wide and they separated, scurrying to their feet and looking abashed._

_Thorin had been passing through the market on his way to the grounds with Balin when the familiar commotion of his nephews' voices had reached his ears. A little dwarven girl with dark curled hair and bright eyes looked up at him, wide-eyed in awe and a little trepidation as he approached; Balin not far behind._

_The little girl gulped, feeling frozen underneath the dwarf kings' scrutinizing stare. She knew who he was; he had visited her fathers' forge and inspected his work when they had first arrived Belegost. Iarí had hidden but had peeked at him from the doorway to the back, idolizing the majesty of the dwarf king._

_She pulled at the sides of her skirts, placing one foot behind the other and curtsying low. Her mama had taught her how to behave properly in the presence of royalty. Fíli and Kíli just stood there stupidly with guilty looking faces, sodden in water and covered in dust, looking at Iarí like she had just sprouted a second head._

_"Bow you fools it's the king!" Iarí hissed at them furiously, glaring at them from under her eyelashes. Why weren't they bowing? Did they not know who Thorin Oakenshield was? Did they have no brains?_

_"Yeah we know," Fíli answered with an amused little smirk, the fine golden hair of his growing stubble framing his lips._

_"He's our Uncle." Kíli added, grinning broadly and puffing his chest proudly._

_Thorin looked down on his young nephews with a raised brow as the little girls' pale face flooded red and she straightened herself, looking the boys with incredulous wide eyes and her pink lips parting._

So this was the girl_, he thought. She was a pretty little thing, small and delicate looking and standing no higher than his waist. It was hard for him to imagine her with a sword. Fíli and Kíli hadn't stopped talking about the girl since they had met her. When it was discovered that she was also an archer, she and Kíli had fast become friends, bonding over their unusual choice of weaponry and because Fíli and Kíli came as a pair, Fíli was soon her friend as well. Once Thorin heard that the trio had quickly become inseparable, he was intrigued._

_When Dwalin had reported to him of the new small female on the warrior fields, Thorin had been apprehensive, concerned for the foolish girl's safety. Word had soon reached him when she had defeated a lad twice her size, unarming him and defeating him within minutes. The girl had proved herself and Thorin had been impressed. She was skilled already at her young age and showed no fear in battle, no matter what size her opponent. So Thorin had allowed her to continue against his better judgement. He had made it very clear to Dwalin that it would be on her own head if she got hurt. If she wanted to be serious about being a warrior then she would receive no special favours because of her femininity._

_"Iarí, are you alright?" Kíli asked, noticing the change in her disposition and frowning. "You look a little green." _

_Her right eye twitched as she stared at them with a confounded expression and her hands curled into white knuckled fists at her sides causing Fíli to take a wary step backwards._

_"YOU TWO IDIOTS ARE THE HEIRS OF DURIN?!"_

_Fíli and Kíli winced at her deafening screech before breaking into smug smiles that she was just dying to punch off their faces. She had never even thought to ask them of their status. She had just assumed they were just normal lads! She had never even considered that those idiots were princes! She felt mortified, but by Durin she wasn't going to show it; she was going to get her revenge. _

_She turned to Thorin sharply, locking her eyes with his, her chin lifting defiantly and her back straightening as she stared him down, exacting her vengeance. The brothers were still sniggering at her apparent obliviousness._

_Thorin was baffled by the sudden difference between the little girl who had shied under his gaze and had curtsied so demurely to the girl staring directly at him with a fire burning behind her eyes. He smiled at her amusedly. Fíli and Kíli ceased their snickering to stare at her with bewildered apprehension, their eyes flickering unsurely between her and their uncle._

_"Mister Thorin, sir, it must be such a disgrace that your nephews are frequently beaten by a girl." _

_With her remark still hanging in the air she turned on her heels, leaving the king and the surrounding dwarves stunned by her boldness. Fíli and Kíli looked utterly humiliated and Iarí smiled with satisfaction as she strode swiftly through the market and away from the royal family as quickly as she could._

* * *

"You'll consider it then?" Dis asked stepping forward as her brother rose from his chair, moving across the large room towards his desk where thick dusty ancient looking books and important looking scrolls and parchment littered the dark wooden surface. Thorin's hand brushed over the items, searching for blank parchment and ink. Balin would be needed. A contract would need to be drawn up.

"Have her sent to me."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alrighty...

Just reiterating how severe Iarí's situation was. Dwarven families are so incredibly close that violence and hate were so rare - inter-dwarven race violence was often between rival males (and more than likely over a female). The idea of domestic violence (between a married couple) is unthinkable because the bond between dwarven lovers is so powerful.

Thorin's also semi mad at Iarí because she didn't tell anyone for so long because of her pride and he could have helped her before it had gotten so bad.

In the flashback Iarí is about 9 years old in physical appearance, Fíli is 10 and Kíli is 8.

**Ugh**, I have pulled my hair out trying to construct an equation to find suitable human age equivalents to dwarven ages. All I had to go on was that (in the events of the Hobbit) Ori was the equivalent of a 17 year old, Fíli (82) and Kíli (77) were roughly around 25 and that Gimli was deemed too young to join the quest at 62.

So using my equation (d_warven age / 3.28 = human age_) these are the human equivalent ages (and therefore physical appearance) of the group in **Hobbit events**:

**Fíli: 82 = 25**  
**Iarí: 80 = 24 **  
**Kíli: 77 = 23  
Ori: 55 = 17 (**I've gone back and edited previous chapters to these ages now**)**

*Gimli at 62 would have been the equivalent of an 18 year old but I'm sticking with the story that Ori was allowed because Thorin wanted a scribe to journal the event.*

I hope that made sense. I'm not even sure if I understand it myself. I'm tired, leave me alone.

_If you don't get any updates from me in a while then please assume I've been buried alive under the amount of coursework I have to do. Thanks for understanding._

**Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think x**

***UPDATE* **INSPIRATION HAS STRUCK AND IARI AND FILI ARE BASICALLY WRITING THIS NEXT CHAPTER OUT FOR ME! *SQUEALS* AND IT'S SO ADORABLE. I'm furiously writing it all down as I speak.


	5. Desire

**Author's Note:** Oh Durin. This basically wrote itself. I don't even know what happened. Last night I was moaning about how crappy the last chapter came out and then BOOM around 2am Fíli and Iarí decided that this would happen.

Follows on from the events of Chapter 3

***Pre-Hobbit Chapter***

Fíli: Just turned 75 years old  
Iarí: 72 years old  
Kíli: 69 years old

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

**Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )**

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M  
(I'll let you find out why)**

* * *

As the heavy fog of sleep lifted from her mind, Iarí nuzzled into the soft pillow beneath her head; trying to clutch desperately at the hazy memory of the dream that she had been immersed in but the details of blue eyes and blonde hair blurred as her consciousness began to awaken. The scent of the pillow was warm and delicious and it stirred a familiarity within her as she inhaled it greedily with a purr, burying herself deeper into the cosy warmth that surrounded her. She was utterly and blissfully comfortable.

A sense of confusion stirred in her mind at her realization that she was far _too_ comfortable to be in her own bed. For the past year she had slept on a thin, lumpy straw mattress and had only a threadbare blanket to cover her; her old feather down mattress, furs and blankets had procured her father a quick tumble with a busty whore.

Her eyes fluttered open in an eager to ascertain her surroundings but were abruptly assaulted by the blinding light that bathed the room. She winced and hissed unhappily, seizing blindly at the soft fabric that blanketed her and pulled it over her head to spare her eyes from the cruel sunlight. When the burning white glare in her retinas had ceased and faded, she warily peeked out from her dark blanket cave and surveyed the large room before her.

It was completely unfamiliar.

She sat up swiftly in alarm. The sudden movement stirred a throbbing pain in her temple that had her recoiling and promptly flopping back onto the mattress. Her hand reached up and fluttered over her brow, her fingers grazing the tender skin, feeling the gritty crust of a healing scab by her eyebrow. Images and memories of the day before raced through her mind and a flood of mixed emotions crashed over her, with one foremost thought overpowering everything else.

Fíli_._

Iarí sat up once more, much more slowly this time, her eyes languidly taking in every inch of the room before her with a childish wonder as realization clicked. _This was Fíli's room_. She pulled back the thick covers from her body, feeling the harsh morning chill sting her bare legs. Sometime in the night she had found her trousers and bodice too restrictive and uncomfortable and, in a half conscious daze, she had hastily taken them off, throwing them carelessly into the black nothingness that was beyond of the comforts of the cocoon she had happily curled into. Wearing nothing but her tunic, with a thin chemise and her smalls underneath, Iarí swung her legs from the bed and placed them on the floor, feeling the soft fur of a large black bear skin rug under her toes. In the forty-two years she had known him, she had never been in his room before. It was deemed improper for an unmarried maiden to venture or be invited into male bedchambers.

By the grand bed, (that she had quickly dubbed as_ the_ most comfortable bed in all of Middle-Earth), was a small table; a collection of books were stacked on the dark wooden surface, surrounded by tall-unlit candles. Iarí recognised some of the Cirth rune titles that were faded on the broken spines, mostly stories of legends, but sitting proudly on the very top of the pile was a thick, worn volume about the History of Durin's Folk. She smiled and rose to her feet, spreading her arms high above her head and moaning a little with the satisfaction of the stretch. She padded across the room slowly, savouring her time as she explored it curiously. As she approached the large stone fireplace, her vision fixated on the little wooden figures that sat on the mantle. They were toys; intricately carved with fine craftsmanship, one was a little dwarven knight in full plate armour and his large warhammer raised high, and another was a dragon. As she reached out to run her finger over the little dragon's spined back, she heard a hesitant metallic click and creak of the heavy wooden door opening behind her and sharply withdrew her hand, twirling round to face her visitor.

Fíli stood in the doorway with his hand still firmly around the handle, halted in his tracks by the sight of Iarí, standing in the centre of his room, only clothed in her loose tunic that ended abruptly at the middle of her thigh. The lacings around her neck were half undone and the peaks of her breasts were unbound without her bodice. A suggestion of hard pebbled nipples protruded from underneath the light fabric. His mind went blank and a blush crept into his cheeks as he caught himself shamelessly gawking at her.

Iarí's mouth parted but no words came out. She didn't know what to say. Her mind was in chaos with a whirlwind of emotions and it was hard to distinguish what she felt and why she felt it.

Embarrassed. She was definitely embarrassed: deeply ashamed and embarrassed. Ashamed that her damn pride had caused the rift between them; that she had been so distant and so cruel to him when he had done nothing but want to help her. Embarrassed that she had clung to him and wept like a child. Oh Durin, did he now think of her now as no better than one of those clucking hens that his mother had been so eager for him to court?

_No_, Iarí's subconscious echoed through her mind. The memory of him crushing her tighter against his chest, stroking her hair and rubbing her back, resting his cheek on her head and lifting her into his strong arms, filled her body with a warmth that she couldn't explain; it was as if her body was still firmly in his embrace.

She had almost killed him and he had held her, carried her to his home and tucked her into his bed. He had looked after her… Her heart seized in her chest as she remembered the tender words he had whispered to her.

Could he-?

_No._

She had abandoned all hope for those sort of requited feelings a long time ago. But the way he looked at her now with darkened hooded eyes sent flutters through the lower of her stomach.

Her body turned cold as the embarrassment returned. Fíli had caught her, nosily exploring his room.

Half naked.

_Oh Mahal help her._

She wanted to shriek and throw herself back under the covers of the bed, and die there of embarrassment. That would have been the proper, _appropriate_ thing to do, but Iarí was frozen under his stare. The object in his hand caught her attention.

Fíli noticed her gaze shift from his and he tore his eyes away from her, unpeeling his hand from around the iron handle of the door and rubbing his neck awkwardly. He raised her sword, offering it to her.

He had gone to fetch it earlier that morning, after Kíli had awoken him with a startled yell and a loud thump as his brother had retreated from the shock of finding Fíli sleeping beside him in his bed and had fallen off the edge, limbs flailing, landing ungracefully on his backside on the hard stone floor.

After giving his little brother a vague and brief explanation, (for Iarí's business was her own to tell) the duo had dressed and journeyed down to the fields. He had left Kíli there to begin the day's training, collecting Iarí's sword from where she had dropped it the night before and returning to the house swiftly. When he had arrived he had found his mother waiting for him and an explanation as to why Iarí had been covered in blood. After rebutting several false accusations, Fíli crumbled under his mother's stern stare and told her everything. He chose to omit the extent of his and Iarí's intimacy last night. That was private. Dis's face had fallen after he had finished relaying Iarí's situation to her and she had rushed off to find Thorin. Fíli hoped his uncle would lock the bastard away, never to see daylight again. As he had finished a late midday meal he had been twitching to see Iarí, but she hadn't appeared from his room. It was almost a blessing when his mother reappeared, telling him to fetch her and send her to Thorin in his quarters as she left to seek out Balin.

"I brought you your sword."

She stood there speechless, like a doe caught in a hunters aim, and he began to fear that she had shut herself down again. Resolution burned within him as he strode over to stand before her. He had just gotten her back. He'll be damned if he was going to let her fade away again.

"Did you sleep well?"

She remained in her stunned silence, but nodded timidly, not meeting his eyes as she reached out carefully between their bodies and took her sword from him, her eyes flickering to the torn fabric at his chest. He still wore last night's clothes, unable to change as she had occupied his room. Kíli tunics did not fit him for he was slightly broader than his brother. He raised his hand to her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face to examine her injuries. Her eyes locked on his face as he scrutinized her wounds, his lips frowning and his thick brows furrowed. The bruise was still angry, deep purple and red but yellow tinged the edges. He felt her warm shaky breath whisper against his palm and he withdrew his hand, thinking he had hurt her. She still said nothing.

"Thorin wants to see you in his study." He said, his eyes sweeping over her body before he cleared his throat awkwardly. "You should get dressed."

He sighed and took one last glance of her eyes before turning to leave her. He had taken only one step when he felt a hand quickly grasp around his, halting him in his tracks. He stared down at the hand curled around his in a daze and she squeezed it lightly. Warmth spread beneath Iarí's touch and tingled under his skin. His eyes darted to meet hers and he exhaled a shaky breath. Her eyes were no longer the cold, harsh glaring orbs he'd become accustomed to seeing over the past years, but a familiar flame burned within them, bright and warm; flecks of gold once more glittered around her deep inky black pupils. Her soft pink lips parted open to speak. Her voice was barely louder than a whisper and husky from sleep but it rang clear in Fíli's ears.

"_Thank you_."

Iarí couldn't have let him leave without saying one word to him; she had struggled in vain with finding the right words to truly express her gratitude, and only when he had turned to leave her with a flash of such a pained expression had the words bubbled to her lips. She inwardly kicked herself for being so stupid. A simple 'thank you' didn't seem nearly enough.

She felt his calloused hand wrap around hers, his thumb brushing over the back of her knuckles and he offered her a small smile. All too soon he uncurled his hand and turned his back on her to leave, closing the door behind him.

Fíli slumped back on the solid door as it clicked shut, clenching his hand open and closed. The tingles of her touch were beginning to fade and he relished the memory of her silky skin on his. He suppressed a groan as a fresh image of her half undressed body and her pale exposed skin assaulted his mind, desire pooling heavily in his stomach. Conflict tore through him and he had the strong urge to knock his head against the solid door in frustration.

He felt guilty for looking at her in such a way. She wasn't some tavern wench. She was his _friend_.

And yet all he wanted to do was run his hands up the exposed flesh of her thighs and feel her figure press flush against his body. He wanted her soft breasts and hard nipples to rub against his chest and her arms to wrap around his neck with her fingers melting into his hair.

More concerning images suddenly began to flash within his thoughts; images of her sleeping serenely in his bed, curled into the side of his body with her head nestled in the crook of his neck, his arms encircled around her protectively and their limbs entwined beneath the blankets. It sent a strange longing pierce through him as he threw himself from the door, shaking his head in a futile attempt to rid the scene from his mind and marched downstairs to wait for his tormentor.

* * *

Iarí stood at the threshold of her home with trepidation. Gritting her teeth she pushed against the door and strode in. The house was as empty and barren as it'd been when she left it the day before; the floor covered with grim, mud and a layer of dust. There was no welcoming fire in the hearth, no comfortable furniture or any items of sentiment anywhere. What lay before her was a corpse of what used to be her family home.

Fíli stood behind her wordlessly, having refused to let her come here alone. His face was blank and expressionless as he hid the shock of the state of the home. It looked more like a goblin hole. He watched cautiously as Iarí disappeared up the stairs to her chambers. He didn't dare follow. He didn't want to see the state she had been succumbed to living in.

He still wasn't quite sure why they were there. Iarí had emerged from Thorin's room in a small state of disbelief muttering to him that she needed to go home and collect a few things. He had been adamant in going with her. Her father could've been there and Fíli wasn't going to leave her alone with the bastard. But the vile dwarf wasn't anywhere to be seen and a part of Fíli was relieved. He wasn't too sure what his reaction would have been if he'd come face to face with her father after knowing what the scum had done. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sheathed sword with anger.

Upstairs Iarí flitted around what used to be her room; throwing the few items she had left into a pack, still in a daze of disbelief.

When she had entered Thorin's chambers she had been met by the figures of Dis, Balin and Thorin. Both Dis and Balin looked at her with sympathetic eyes and Iarí felt instantly uncomfortable. Pity was a reason she hadn't told anyone of her misfortunates. She didn't want or need anyone to feel sorry for her. She had looked to Thorin expecting more sympathy but had only met his steely expression, his eyes narrowed when he looked upon her beaten face. Fíli had told them. Although she was angry at his betrayal she felt a little glimmer of hope that she could finally escape from her suffering.

She had been utterly blindsided when she was told that she would become Thorin Oakenshield's ward; that she would be leaving her father's home, be acquitted from her father's custody and would remain in the home and guardianship of Thorin until she married.

She took one last look around her room before closing the door on the darkest part of her life. Taking a scrap piece of parchment from her pack she scratched a note for her father and pinned it to her door so that when he came looking for her after returning from whichever tavern he'd spent the night in, undoubtedly seeking more money, he wouldn't miss it.

_Father,_

_I have left and I will not be returning. I want nothing to do with you anymore. I will live happier away from your poison. I grieve for the father I once knew. I've spent the last years hoping I would see him return to me but now I see that he is lost forever. If you care for me at all, you will not look for me._

She returned to Fíli at the door, brushing past him and his concerned look, walking away from the corpse as fast as she could without running. Fíli appeared soon at her side having quickly caught up to her with his much larger strides. He said nothing for nothing needed to be said; there was already so much comfort in just his presence alone that Iarí felt more and more at ease the further she left the poisonous place behind her.

"Where are you to go?" Fíli asked coolly from beside her as they paced through the winding streets. Iarí stared straight ahead, slowing her strides and avoiding his questioning gaze as she felt a blush redden her cheeks.

"Thorin's decreed that I'm to be his ward until I'm married."

Fíli nodded, his face a blank mask as the prospects of Iarí living under the same roof of him danced around his mind. A silence hung in the air between them that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Passersby stared openly at Iarí's marred face; the women whispering and tittering behind their hands so obviously that Iarí had to roll her eyes. No one suspected anything other than it was a wound she had sustained from sparring though. What they found more curious was the pack slung over her shoulder and the way Fíli was glaring at anyone who came too close to her.

Fíli opened the door to his home when they reached it and entered, holding it open for her but Iarí stood hesitantly at the threshold. She was overwhelmed with the idea that she was no longer in her father's control and would live here under the protection of Thorin and coincidentally her closest friends. It didn't seem real to her. She thought she would awake at any moment in her freezing room, shivering beneath her thin blanket. Fíli looked over his shoulder at her, noting her hesitance, and smiled at her encouragingly, tilting his head and gesturing for her to come inside. She inhaled, stepping into the large entrance hallway, feeling a strange peace settle over her like an embrace.

Thorin appeared at the top of the grand staircase and descended down towards them.

"Show her to the spare room in the west wing. That will be hers from now on." He addressed Fíli as he approached them. Iarí bowed her head with silent thanks and looked up when she felt Thorin's hand on her shoulder. She met his stormy blue eyes and felt the sense of a reprimand in his steely gaze. He was irked that her pride had prevented her from seeking aid earlier. So much of her suffering could have been prevented if she hadn't been so stubborn.

"Your mother's gone to the market for some items and I'm needed in council. See that she gets settled." Thorin said to Fíli, releasing Iarí from his gaze with a small smile and closing the door behind him.

Iarí trailed behind Fíli silently as he led her up the staircase and to the left, shrugging her pack more securely onto her shoulder. Fíli eventually stopped in the middle of a long corridor in front of a paneled door with wrought iron hinges, turning the handle and pushing it open.

The room was large and bathed in light flooding in from the large arched windows, framed by billowing white drapes. The large bed that dominated the room was covered in soft furs and blankets and Iarí fought the urge to childishly throw herself onto it. At the foot of the bed lay a large fluffy shearling rug that spread out in front of the yawning fireplace; howling wolves carved into the dark wooden lintel. Above the mantle hung an exquisite landscape of Erebor.

Fíli stood unsurely in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the frame, watching as Iarí dropped her pack onto the floor and wandered around the room in awe, her hands tracing over the beautifully carved wolf heads. The new frustrating feelings he felt about her hadn't quelled. His fingers twitched as he ached to touch her. He straightened from his post and walked towards her slowly.

Iarí's fingers stilled as she felt his presence behind her and she looked up at him questioningly from beneath her lashes, a crease forming between her brows.

"What's wrong?"

He stood in front of her with confliction torn across his face as to confess to her his strange thought that plagued his mind about her and the new unnamed feelings for her that swirled in his stomach. Surely she would be disgusted that he viewed her in such a way. She would think him no better than the other leering fools she had rejected.

"Nothing." He smiled reassuringly, stepping closer to her. He would keep his thoughts to himself. "Just- … I'm glad you're okay."

Without a wary thought he reached up to her face and cupped her injured cheek in his palm. He was so close that he could feel her soft breaths lap against his face. She swallowed thickly as he inclined his head forward slowly and pressed his lips to her cheek in a slow and tender kiss, the fine hair of his beard and his braided moustache brushing against her skin.

He withdrew from her, pulling only inches away, his eyes opening as his gaze traced over her face to determine her reaction. She stared up at him and exhaled a quivering breath. Her hazel eyes were dark and smouldering and darted from his eyes to his lips. Fíli felt himself being drawn forward once more, trapped within her allure, inching ever closer, torturously slow, his hooded eyes silently pleading permission.

When his long nose brushed against hers, her eyes fluttered shut and her head tilted back slightly to accommodate his height; her lips parted open and her whole body tingled in anticipation. His lips ghosted over hers, caressing her top lip. Iarí almost whimpered with the feel of his lips on hers, her heart thumping so loudly in her chest that she was sure he could hear it. She didn't hesitate, pressing her lips against his and melting into his kiss.

As their lips separated briefly, their eyes snapped open as they rested their foreheads against each other's. Fíli scoured her face, holding it between his hands, as she stared up at him with burning, fathomless emotion. Her eyes flashed as she brought her hands to his chest, fisting into the fabric of his tunic and bringing him crashing back to her lips.

The world beyond them ceased to exist as Fíli's fingers delved into her thick tresses, holding her face to his as their lips moved against each other. Her tongue licked at his bottom lip as she took it between her teeth and nibbled gently, eliciting a moan that rumbled from his chest and sparked a pulsating flame between her thighs. His tongue delved into her mouth, sliding over hers as they kissed frantically and desperately, pouring every suppressed tension and every unbearable ounce of desire into each other. They knew it was immoral, improper, and downright scandalous, but they couldn't bring themselves to care.

Fíli ran his hands down her neck, skimming the sides of her breasts to her hips and pulled her body against his until her breasts were pressed firmly against his chest. She gasped in his mouth as she felt his arousal hard against her hip but instead of recoiling she threw her arms around his neck crushing her body closer against his but even then it still didn't feel close enough. His kisses, his touches, set her body aflame. She moaned into his mouth, grinding her hips into his eagerly, craving to feel his naked skin on hers. To feel his tight muscles under her hands. To give herself to him.

They were spiralling out of control, ready and eager to succumb to their most intense, primal desires when a loud slam and a call of Fíli's name echoed throughout the entrance hall, bringing them back to reality. Their passions cooled instantly as if they had been doused with a bucket of ice-cold water and they tore apart from each other, flying across the room in order to separate their heated bodies. They stared wide-eyed at each other as they tried in vain to calm their rapid pants and straightened their rumpled clothing. Finished with her own adjustments Iarí strode over to Fíli, smoothing down his hair from where her wandering hands had ruffled his mane.

Fíli stared at her as she tidied his hair hurriedly, placing his hands around her waist and resting his forehead on hers as she finished. She stared back at him with an adoring smile and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. He knew things would never be the same between them. He knew from her kiss that the things he felt for her, she somehow felt them for him too. Such passion, such emotion, such desire, such...

Fíli swallowed thickly as through a sudden moment of clarity a name his feelings was found.

"Iarí... I-"

Kíli's impatient voice called loudly for him again, cutting Fíli off and provoking a growl from his throat.

"_I'm going to kill him_."

* * *

**Author's Note: **HANDS UP IF YOU LOVE AWKWARD SEXUAL TENSION BETWEEN DWARVES! *waves hand furiously in the air*

No lie, a few times when I was writing this I felt like I was pushing their heads together shouting "NOW KISS" at them.

Kíli you adorable cockblock.

I don't know why but I imagine dwarven bedrooms to be very Winterfell-y (Game of Thrones, for the people that don't know) with stone floors and dark wood and furs and what not. That's what I imagine.

**I've almost reached 100 followers! :D Virtual hugs and kisses to you all!**

IMPORTANT MESSAGE: Seriously though I won't be posting for a while because I've just lost an entire day's work of coursework in favour of writing this chapter. And I've got university interviews and deadlines and essays soon so please don't hate me! TT_TT

**Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think x**


	6. Sharp

**Author's Note:** Pft. I'm so bad at coursework. I was having a crappy day and writing this made me feel better. It might not be that well written and there will be some grammatical mistakes until I find them and correct them but sod it. Here you go.

This chapter was a fluke, seriously don't expect updates. I'd rather happily surprise you then you waiting around for them.

***Pre-Hobbit Chapter***

Fíli: 60 years old (18)  
Iarí: 58 years old (17)  
Kíli: 55 years old (16)

Right, I know someone commented on the whole specific age thing so I'll explain. The age thing for Pre-Hobbit Chapters is so that people can easily work out when a chapter happened and can slot Pre-Hobbit Events into a timeline of sorts. Also I'll be putting human equivalent ages next to the dwarven ages in brackets from now on to help with envisioning what age they look like. These ages have all been worked out with my '**Dwarf to Human Age Equation**' that I put in the ending Author's Note in Chapter 4: Saviour. This equation has worked perfectly for my story so far.

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED T  
(some language)**

* * *

"Where's your father? I wish for business."

Iarí didn't look up at the snooty gaggle of dwarven girls who stood precariously in the doorway of the forge looking completely out of place dressed up in their gaudy gowns and braided hairstyles that were supposed to be fashionable but Iarí just thought that they looked bizarre. They hadn't expected to find Iarí there. They had been chattering excitedly as they had entered through the thick heavy doors but had stifled when they saw her inside; sitting at a cluttered workbench, dusted with soot from the furnace, her hair carelessly pulled into a messy simple braid down her back to keep the hair out of her face, wearing a thick and battered leather apron to protect her clothes and wiping down a sword as thick and as long as her arm with a cloth.

"He's out buying ore. I'm in charge for today." She said in a bored voice, raising her blade to inspect it. Satisfied with its newly sharpened edge she slid it into its sheath, only then, as she reached for her knife, did she look up with a raised brow and acknowledge their presence. "What is it you're looking for? You won't find dolls or pretty jewels in here, Bethmi."

Bethmi, daughter of Brullyra, and bane of Iarí's life, raised her rounded chin and looked down her long pointed nose at Iarí with her thin lips pulled into a smirk.

"The king's beloved sister has decided to present me to Prince Fíli."

Iarí grimaced as she focused on working at the edge of her knife with the whetstone. She was too aware that Dis was eager to see Fíli courting. Fíli hadn't seen any harm and had agreed for his mother to play matchmaker for him, just so long as it didn't take too much of his time. Iarí always recoiled at the prospects of Fíli courting for it always sent a shooting pain through her heart. Eventually he would find a girl worthy of him. She would be beautiful and kind and feminine and she would be everything he'd want in a wife. Thorin and Dis would both approve of her and they would begin to court. He would surely soon fall in love with her and they'd get married and then they'd have children….

Thinking of his future without her in it pained Iarí more than she could bear. When he married, Fíli would be lost to her forever.

Iarí already hated the faceless girl with a passion.

"I wish to give him a gift. A gift fit for a king." Bethmi continued, unaware of Iarí's inner turmoil, proudly prattling away as she wandered idly around the store, sweeping her gaze over the workshop with judgmental eyes; her companions, Danha and Gima, shadowed her with sly smiles. "I had heard your father makes some of the finest weaponry in Belegost, but I might have heard wrong… he did make you after all."

Danha and Gima snickered and Iarí's knuckles clenched around the whetstone tighter and ground it against the steel more forcefully, making small orange sparks fly. She was used to their bitter insults and she would not give them the satisfaction of a reaction. They thought of Iarí as a defect, a rebel and a troublemaker within the female society because she didn't obtain to their rules. She was a popular target of their ridicule, but they just didn't seem to understand that Iarí didn't care.

Her life was her own. She wasn't going to allow anyone to tell her how she should live it.

"The weapons are over there." She said, tilting her head in the direction of the wall to their right. She didn't want to serve them, she wanted them to leave, but business was business and gold was gold. "Make sure you don't touch the pointy ends. They're sharp."

Bethmi scowled at Iarí's condescending tone and turned swiftly towards the wall of weaponry with a huff and an overdramatic ruffle of her skirts. Danha and Gima quickly flocked to her side, clucking away to try and restore her fleeting good mood.

"You are too lucky, Bethmi!" Danha twittered; clasping her hands together and bouncing on the balls of her feet so enthusiastically that Iarí thought the girl might keel over with excitement. "To be presented to the prince! The Heir of Durin!"

The girls all let out high pitched squeals and giggles that made Iarí wince and roll her eyes in her seat on the other side of the room.

"If you marry, then you'll be a princess! Just like you've always dreamed of!" Gima added, clasping and tugging at Bethmi's hand.

"_When_ we marry." Bethmi snapped sharply, pulling her hand from the smaller girl's eager grasp with a dark and threatening look. Gima shrunk underneath the intensity of her glare, silently stuttering and looking desperately to Danha for help. Bethmi's bouts of temper were brutal and unforgiving.

"What will you wear?" The blonde asked, coming to Gima's aid and dispersing the sudden tension between the girls.

"Green," Bethmi crooned with a smug smile, her attention successfully diverted. "To match his eyes."

Iarí choked quietly on a snort.

Fíli's eyes were blue: as blue as the sea and as blue as the sky. They were deep and endless pools of blue. She would know… she had gotten herself lost staring into them more than once.

"You'll look so beautiful that everyone will die of envy," Gima gushed quickly to get back into Bethmi's favour. Bethmi smiled, contented with their compliments and hungrily devoured the attention. "He'll be sure to offer courtship as soon as he sees you!"

"Now, now." She said with a fake demure smile. "I must choose a gift for my beloved."

She turned to the wall and looked upon the rows of sharp swords and axes, deadly knives and daggers, spears and maces, and warhammers that could crush skulls with one blow. The selection for each type of weapon was endless; single-handed, double-handed, single-bladed, twin-bladed, short, long, light, heavy… it wasn't a wonder that Bethmi looked so utterly lost and confused staring at the selection, with her brows furrowed and her lips pursed before admitting quietly, "…I don't know what he wields."

"I thought you watched him fight?" Gima questioned curiously as Danha furrowed her brow in a quizzical look.

Bethmi blushed; she had been caught out on her embellished lies of watching Prince Fíli train. She had weaved them a fantasy of how she had snuck down to the grounds after dark and watched Prince Fíli fighting bare-chested in the evening light. Her tale had any girl who she told it to green with envy and Bethmi had relished in it.

"I wasn't exactly paying attention to his weapon now was I?" Bethmi snapped with narrowed eyes that dared her companions to say anything. Iarí listened intently. Bethmi was blatantly lying. The grounds were always locked after dark and after training Fíli always went to the Axe and Hammer for a drink with Kíli and _her_.

"You." Bethmi barked suddenly and Iarí glanced at them as they all turned their attentions on her. "What does Prince Fíli fight with?"

Iarí leant forward, folding her hands under chin with a sickly sweet sneer. Did they honestly expect her to help them?

"Now why would you think I would help a cold, conceited, heartless wench like you try to ensnare my friend for his title, when I can have so much more fun sitting back and watching you fail miserably, laughing at your futile attempts alongside _your_ so called 'beloved'?"

Bethmi scowled, enraged by her brashness and began to prowl across the room with her followers close behind. Iarí stayed smiling in her seat, not intimidated in the slightest. She had faced down the likes of Thorin and Dwalin. This little bitch was nothing.

"You think you're so great don't you?" Bethmi growled, approaching the bench that Iarí was sat at. She loomed over Iarí, trying to appear threatening but Iarí just kept smiling, staring up at her from her seat, unfazed. "But everyone knows your game. You flaunt about the training field, flourishing your sword to get men falling at your feet. It's pathetic that you think they respect you because you're supposed to be some great female warrior, but here's a little secret," Bethmi leant forward with a vicious smirk on her thin lips, her eyes glinting. "They don't respect you. _No one_ respects you. You hang around with lads and think they're your friends but you're nothing more than a piece of ass to them. You're a tease. And when you finally let the princes get what they want out of you, they'll throw you aside as soon as they're finished. You're no better than a whore except you'd do it for free."

Iarí smiled, remaining completely unafflicted by the poison of Bethmi's words. Iarí knew the truth, yet at the back of her mind a small amount of doubt began to spread. "You're so arrogant to think you know anything about me or Fíli and Kíli. You know _nothing_ about us."

"Maybe so. But I assure you I'll get to know Prince Fíli, and so much more _intimately _than you'll ever know him. Especially on our wedding night." Bethmi said with a predatory grin.

Iarí slammed the tip of her knife into the solid wood of the table between where Bethmi leant her hands on the surface. The girls all recoiled with fear in their wide eyes at the knife's sharp polished steel and the sudden dark expression on Iarí's face.

"You reckon you have such a sharp tongue, Bethmi. Do you reckon it sharper than my knife?"

Bethmi swallowed thickly and backed away into the safety of her companions as Iarí rose to her feet and plucked the large hunting knife from the table, one dark brow raised menacingly.

"Are you girls going to buy something or are you just wasting her time?" An irritated voice called from the doorway. "She has places to be."

Iarí sheathed her knife into its hidden place at the small of her back and threw aside her apron whilst the other girls twirled round in shock to the sound of the voice. She didn't have to look up to know whose voice it was. She grabbed her bow and quiver of arrows, slinging them over her neck before crossing her sword on the other side, as they all stuttered and bowed.

Kíli stood in the open doorway with his arms folded over his chest and his nose wrinkled in distaste as the strange girls in bright dresses and ridiculously flamboyant hairstyles gushed, blushed and bowed. Iarí reckoned that Gima was close to fainting with the way that she swayed slightly on the spot. He tended to have that effect on women. With his dark wild hair, his deep brown eyes, his rugged cropped beard and his royally handsome features, Kíli had already broken so many hearts. He was far too young to be serious about love and marriage but that didn't stop him from having his bit of fun. Kíli loved the chase, even though more often than not it got him into trouble with angry fathers.

"Who are they?" Kíli called to Iarí as she picked up the chest of the day's earnings to lock away in the vault in the back room.

Bethmi had collected herself enough to politely step forward and curtsey again, her head bowing low to the young prince. "I'm Bethmi, daughter of Brullyra, at your service."

Kíli raised a brow but otherwise ignored her. He hadn't asked _her_. The other two, Gima and Danha were still stunned into silence, gawking and shuffling awkwardly.

"Prospective wives for Fíli apparently." Iarí voice called from the back as she extinguished the blazing flames of the furnace with a bucket of water. They went out with a loud hiss and once she was satisfied that the forge wasn't going to burn down whilst she was away, she locked the backdoor.

"You'd think my mother would have more taste than girls who would be stupid enough to insult Fíli's friend." He grumbled, side-eyeing Bethmi who turned pale under his glare. He had arrived at the forge, eager to collect Iarí and get on the road to help escort the caravan of merchants and traders safely to the settlements of Men in Evendim, when he heard the girl Bethmi's interesting little speech.

"Heard that did you?" Iarí asked, walking back into the room.

"Yeah," He grinned and winked at her. "Didn't know we were supposed to be involved in some three-way sordid love affair."

"Kíli, no."

"Fine."

"Where is his highness anyway? I'm sure he'd love to meet his admirers and hear all about his lovely green eyes and the hours of shirtless training he does after dark."

"What?!" Kíli snorted loudly.

Bethmi turned vivid red in the face and spun angrily to Iarí who just looked back at her innocently, adjusting the straps on her vambrace. "What? Was that supposed to be a secret? Didn't think it was with the way you were bragging about it."

"Fíli's getting the ponies."Kíli said shaking his head and still chuckling slightly."He's never going to find a wife if these are the kind of girls Ma's presenting to him."

"Excuse me?" Bethmi exclaimed, catching onto the tactful insult.

The look of Kíli's face was all Thorin.

"Excuse you for what exactly?" He snarled. "For insulting my friend? For calling her a whore? For spreading lies about my brother and me? Or for wasting our time? Pick one and get out. You're not forgiven."

Bethmi stifled a yelp as Danha and Gima quickly brushed past her, fleeing out the door. Abandoned and humiliated, she turned back to Iarí who stood with a smile on her face and fluttered her fingers in a wave. Bethmi's face scrunched in anger and she huffed with bitter defeat, scowling as she stormed past Kíli and into the street.

"You can be scary when you want to." Iarí said impressed, collecting her small pack containing a couple of day's supplies, spare clothing, her bedroll and cloak, from behind the counter and made her way over to him.

Kíli grinned and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as she followed him out of the forge and locked the door behind her.

"Line of Durin."

* * *

**Author's Note: **There's so much sass in this chapter... I love it.

Dear Dis, what are you thinking with these girls? Seriously?

_(it's far too convenient, I think she might have ulterior motives guys) _

For Bethmi's character I very much imagined a much older Lavinia from The Little Princess (1995 version).

"**_Prince Fili_**" ugh I hated writing that. Seriously, no one call him that. Ever. It just doesn't feel right.

I tend to hate writing dialogue, but I think i did pretty well and it might actually pass for a believable conversation? Idk you be the judge.

The ending for this was quite different. Bethmi was going to choose the most jewel encrusted knife plated with gold that was totally impractical and ridiculous and Iari was going to laugh on the inside and charge the bitch double than what it was worth. But then Kili burst in like 'NO WAIT! LET'S HUMILIATE THE BITCH!' and Iari was like "YEAHHHH" and they high-fived. Haha. I love Sassy Kili and the fact that the entire line of Durin has that one look that'll melt the flesh of your bones.

I know what you're thinking -

**'Another Pre-Hobbit Chapter? Really Pippa? When are we going to get to the good action packed, angsty Fíli and Iarí secret love, filled chapters?'**

If I don't see these chapters play out in my head like my own personal movie then they don't get written down. It's just the way I've been writing. Yeah I'll see little snippets of scenarios but if it doesn't flow in my head then it won't flow on paper and it'll just end up a mess.

**P.S** I've decided how I'm going to end this fanfic but I'm keeping it quiet so you won't know what to expect :3

Will it be happy? Will it be sad? You just won't know until it hits you in the face.

Mwahahahaaa.

**Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think x**


	7. Road

**Author's Note:** Been writing this chapter very slowly over the past couple of days so here ya go.

Bit of another filler chapter.

Little more about each individual dwarf in this one because I felt like they were being neglected.

Tiny tidbit of Thorin/Iari's relationship (which hasnt fully developed out in my head yet mind you, so it probably still seems very vague at the moment).

Umm... thats all I can say for now until the bottom Author's Note so cya down there! ;D

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

**Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )**

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED K**

* * *

The sun rose over the horizon, rousing the birds into morning song. They chirped and tweeted in the trees whilst the bees began to buzz around the flowers in Mr Baggins's perfectly neat little garden. The little hobbit hole was quiet… except for the soft thundering symphony of snores, resonating from the blanketed mounds of the sleeping dwarves that littered the carpeted floor.

Iarí awoke softly, the heavy veil of sleep lifting from her eyes as she raised her head from her pillow and looked around the room where she had bedded down for the night. Sunlight trickled in through the round windows of the parlour, wisps of smoke from the burnt out candles of last night swirled in the air. The hobbit hole smelt of the rich, dry earth that embraced the home in the hill. She was the first to awaken it seemed, as there was no other movement than the soft rise and fall of chests and shoulders as the rest of the company slept. From where she lay she could see the large bulk that was Bombur settled in the kitchen, snoring the loudest of them all, wrapped up in his bedroll and drooling. Ori had slept by her feet, almost curled up into a ball beneath his blanket, cuddling his leather bound journal in his arms with a dopey smile of his face whilst he dreamed. As she stirred to raise herself onto her elbows, an arm that lay across her waist wrapped around her tighter and pulled her closer into the body of its owner.

Iarí turned her head and frowned at the sleeping Fíli.

They had gone to sleep last night side by side, with an _appropriate _distance between them, but seemingly during the night they had both unconsciously inched towards each other until Fíli had her back pressed against his chest. Iarí made a mental note not to sleep near Fíli again. If they had been found curled so intimately like that, suspicions would be raised and questions would be asked. It was only the first day of the quest and they were already apparently struggling to keep their distance. She rolled over in his arms to face him, feeling his warm breath lap over her face. Smiling softly, she pressed a light lingering kiss to his lips, unwrapping his arm from around her and moving out from his grasp without waking him.

She stretched her arms out to the sides and rolled her neck as she sat up, moaning quietly with satisfaction. She sharply pulled off her blanket and got to her feet. With the bodies of fourteen dwarves, the hobbit hole was uncomfortably warm and stuffy. Seeking fresh cool air, Iarí made to step outside, climbing strategically over a couple of sleeping bodies in her path and grabbed her bow from where it had been hung on the coat rack, opening the door carefully so not to disturb the others.

In the morning sun, Hobbiton was green. So incredibly, vividly green and bright and blooming with life that Iarí felt the urge to blink as she stared across the rolling hills where colourful round hobbit doors were etched into knolls with brick chimneys spouting smoke. The air was clear and crisp with the fragrances of flowers; the lake at the bottom of the hill was blue in the reflection of the cloudless sky. Hobbits were already awake, tending to their gardens or their animals or their children, dressed in bright colours and fine pattern fabrics. It was so content, so peaceful, so quiet…

It was unnerving.

Iarí wasn't one for peace and quiet. She was a traveller, a warrior and an adventurer. She could never stay still for as long as these hobbits did. Their life seemed so monotonous; they were so happily comfortable with performing the same routine day in and day out, watching their plants grow and their bellies widen. A hobbits life was such a simple life. It was a life that Iarí didn't crave for. Despite her eighty years she was still young for a dwarf, but she was strong and her mind was sharp. She would not waste her life away like these hobbits.

A couple of hobbits strolling past arm in arm went wide-eyed at the sight of the she-dwarf on the perch of Bilbo's doorstep. The female hobbit wearing a blue floral puffed sleeved dress, fluttered her hand to her open mouth to stifle a gasp as she stared at Iarí. Her chubby husband drew the pipe from his lips and gave a low whistle without much smart thinking for his wife promptly cuffed him around his pointy ear and dragged him away with a glare.

Iarí perched on the wooden bench by the doorway and began adjusting the string of her bow, making sure that it was taut and strong whilst waiting for her companions to wake. Her bow was long and recurved, intricately carved from a thick branch of an ash tree. It was light but it was powerful and intended for long range. After she had checked the knots of the string, twice, she was growing impatient, twitching to get onto the road. She was deciding on the most effective way to wake the slumbering dwarves inside, when the door beside her opened. Thorin stepped out from the hobbit hole, shrugging his fur-collared coat onto his shoulders, his eyes finding Iarí on the bench.

Thorin frowned, the crease between his thick brows deepening, suddenly unsettled in the way that in the light of the day and surrounded by flowers, she looked so delicate, so innocent… so young. With the large bow in her lap she reminded him of a child playing pretend. He knew she was anything but. He knew that she was a fearsome thing to behold in battle, yet the thought did not leave his mind as she smiled up at him, standing to her feet with her bow in hand and stood beside him.

"There's an inn across the water." She reported as he gazed across the land below them. "We can eat there, since we seemed to have cleared out Master Baggins's pantry last night. No doubt they'd serve breakfast. All hobbits ever seem to do is eat."

Thorin released a low chuckle at her wrinkling her nose disapprovingly, his eyes brightened and the stern air around him lifted. Iarí was one of few that heard his laugh and saw his smiles.

"We should be able to restock supplies and buy ponies as well. Gandalf said he would meet us down there."

Thorin nodded. "Wake the others."

Iarí smiled with a mischievous glee in her eyes, turning to go back inside, but as her hand grabbed the round doorknob she stilled.

"Should I wake the hobbit?"

A part of Iarí knew that the hobbit would be better of staying in the comforts of his home but she could not deny the advantages of him on the quest. She could appreciate the wizard's thinking; he was small, unnoticeable… practically invisible. Smaug would not know his scent, as dragons did not have reason for dealings with hobbits. They coveted gold, not food, flowers and pipe weed. But the facts against Mister Baggins were clear as well. He did not know how to defend himself. He knew nothing of hardship, of battle and of the world beyond the Shire borders. There was no surety that he would make it to Erebor alive to fulfill his role. Ori was already near next to defenseless. They did not need someone else who would need protecting.

"Master Baggins has not signed the contract," Thorin answered after a brief pause; his voice low and rough. "He's of no concern of ours."

Iarí nodded her head, pushing open the door and ducking into the house and to the parlour. She let out a short piercing whistle, smirking as the mounds began to stir and groan into consciousness. Dwalin sat up immediately with his battle-axes, Ukhlat and Umraz both ready in hand.

"Wake up! We have a kingdom to reclaim!" She barked, punting Fíli in the sole of his boot, watching him fondly as he jolted and squinted up at her. She flashed him a grin before moving onto Kíli who was lying on his chest only a little away, placing her heavy boot on his backside and shaking him until he lazily swatted at her foot and begun lifting himself from the floor with a sleepy groan.

Once everyone had awoken they set about packing away their bedrolls, returning any furniture to their proper places out of courtesy and pulled on their coats, assorted weapons and packs. When they had finished, Bag End showed no evidence that it had been occupied by more than a dozen dwarves… except for the pitifully empty pantry.

"Let's go." Thorin ordered once everyone was finished and ready, leading the way out of the door.

Iarí shrugged on her large pack over her shoulder as the dwarves filed out outside. From the corner of her eye she watched curiously as Ori tenderly placed down the unsigned company contract onto the hobbit's armchair with a hopeful look on his face. He blushed when he looked up and met her quizzical gaze, shuffling past her and out the door quickly to fall behind his brothers. Iarí gave the hobbit hole one last look before closing the door behind her.

* * *

The long procession of ponies ambled along contently on the wide dirt road through East Farthing Woods. Warm dappled sunlight filtered through the thick tall trees beneath the peaceful cloudy sky. Sixteen ponies in all had been acquired from the Hobbiton stables, good tempered and sturdy with thick wooly coats. Fourteen carried riders and the two additional ones held the supplies; large packs of food stuffed with dried meats and sausages, fruits, cheese, bread, biscuits, potatoes and vegetables, and large skins of wine and water. As well as the ponies, a large chestnut mare had been purchased for the tall grey wizard who had met them cheerfully at The Green Dragon.

The sight of the cluster of heavily armed dwarves had caused quite a commotion in Hobbiton. Though hobbits were accustomed to dwarves occasionally passing through the Shire, either travelling or on business trading, they had never in memory seen such a large and odd array. The adult hobbits had shrunk and kept their distance but the inquisitive bright-eyed and adorable hobbit girls and boys had flocked around the strangers, a few even daring to approach them and ask questions whilst the dwarves enjoyed a hearty breakfast on the picnic benches spread across on the lawn of The Green Dragon.

Fíli smiled, sat astride his speckled grey pony riding beside his brother, as he recalled the look on Iarí's face when a small hobbit boy had tugged at her sleeve and asked her why she didn't have a beard as well.

"Because I'm a woman, little one," she had managed to say, wiping her chin with her sleeve after she had spurted out her drink with shock. The boy had tilted his head at her, raising his eyebrow suspiciously.

"But I thought she-dwarfs were supposed to have beards too!" He had retorted, pouting and scrutinizing her hairless chin. Iarí had looked utterly horrified whilst Fíli and Kíli snickered behind their mugs at the image of her with a beard. She had swiftly kicked them both in their shins.

She rode far ahead of him near the front of the convoy, mounted on her smokey cream pony beside Thorin on his red bay, discussing plans for the road ahead. It would be several days riding until they reached Bree where they would be able to buy more supplies and spend the night comfortably in rooms at The Prancing Pony. After that, they would not see such comforts again until they reached Laketown.

Iarí stared at the grey wizards' back as he led. From the discussion last night she guessed that he wanted to take the company to Rivendell. It caused a nervousness to flutter in her stomach.

"I said it. Didn't I say it?" Dori said bitterly, his voice carrying loudly. "Coming here was a waste of time."

"That's true enough!" Gloin shouted gruffly.

"Ridiculous," Dori continued, to anyone that was still listening. "Use a hobbit?! Whose idea was it anyway?"

"Wait! Waait!"

The company ceased with neighs and grunts of the protesting ponies as the voice called out from behind them. All eyes turned to see Bilbo Baggins waving the long contract in the air as he pelted to catch them up.

"I signed it!" Bilbo announced, struggling for breath but smiling proudly as he found Balin and handed the contact over to him. The wise, white haired dwarf arched an eyebrow, pulling out his loupe from the depth of his jacket and thoroughly examined Bilbo's signature.

"Everything appears to be in order," He declared, folding the contract and tucking it into his pack. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

Balin offered the smiling hobbit a wink as several cheers sounded from the line of the procession. Iarí looked to the hobbit standing with a delighted smile plastered on his face and a small bag secured on his back. He looked eager and excited. Her brows furrowed together in bewilderment.

_Why had he come?_ What had changed his mind? He had been so resolute in his decision the night before.

"Give him a pony," Thorin ordered, turning back to the road and spurring his pony on. Bilbo's head snapped up.

"Oh, n-no, no, that won't be necessary, thank you," he stammered. "I'm sure I can keep up, on foot. I- I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. Even got as far as Frogmorton once—argh!"

Fíli and Kíli had rode up either side of him as he had wittered on, plucked him from the ground by the straps of his pack, and had dropped him onto the supply pony with the large cooking pot on it's back. Bilbo looked shocked at suddenly finding himself on the back of a pony and a little affronted at being manhandled by the brothers, who just grinned at him before falling to the end of the procession.

Gandalf, on his large chestnut mare, held back to ride beside Bilbo who was clearly not comfortable with riding a horse; sitting with his spine rigid and his knuckles white as he held the reins, his elbows stiffly planted into his sides and a grimace on his face. He recoiled in fright as the pony he rode suddenly whickered and tossed back her wheat coloured mane.

"Come on Nori, pay up!" Oin shouted to the pointy haired dwarf who sighed. He dug into his coat, retrieving a drawstring purse and tossed it back to Oin who snatched it from the air and laughed delightedly as he felt the heavy weight of the gold coins in his hand. "Thanks lad!"

"One more," Fíli called out eagerly as Kíli let out a light-hearted chuckle. Bilbo watched the flying coin bags go past his head in a state of confusion and curiosity.

"What's that about?"

"Oh, they took wagers," Gandalf explained, "On whether or not you'd turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"And what did you think?" Bilbo asked.

"Well…" Gandalf sighed, suddenly dropping the reins in his hand to catch the incoming purse. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second!" He chuckled, tossing the purse with the gold coins clinking inside before placing it into his bag slung over his shoulder.

Only a few had had faith that Bilbo would join the company, Gandalf being one of them. He remembered the adventurous young hobbit Bilbo had been in his youth: exploring the woods for elves, staying out until past dusk and seeking out adventure. Although Bilbo had seemed perfectly content in the simple comforts of his home under the hill, that very home was brimming with extensive maps of lands beyond the Shire.

"So," Bilbo started, shifting in his seat and leaning towards Gandalf. "Who is everyone?"

"Were you not introduced last night?"

"Well, sort of. I- I mean… there were a lot of names…"

"Ah," Gandalf chuckled with understanding before beginning. "Well, behind us we have Oin…"

Bilbo turned in his seat to look at the dwarf with wiry grey hair. He had a great moustache that looked like it sprouted from his nose like the tusks of the Oliphaunts in his books. His long beard was braided at his chin and parted in two, curling back up into the long bristly mass of his sideburns. He was very distinctive by the odd-looking iron horn that he held to his right ear, for he was very hard of hearing. Bilbo learnt from Gandalf that Oin was a healer and was skilled at making medicine from herbs and plants.

Riding in front of them was Nori, the tri-pointy haired dwarf with the tri-braided beard to match, and Bofur, the dwarf who wore the upturned shearling hat on top of his dark plaited pigtails and who had made Bilbo faint. Nori was an expert at picking locks, Bilbo was told, which often got him in trouble with the dwarven authorities back in Belegost. Bofur seemed to be the heart of the company, kind, cheery and loyal, with a love of good music and good food. Dori and Ori rode ahead of them. Dori, silver-haired with a large round nose, seemed more like a mother than a brother to Ori. He always seemed to be fussing over the young wide-eyed lad with the wispy ginger beard and mushroom cap haircut.

Then there was Bifur and Bombur. Bilbo remembered quiet vividly the large orange haired dwarf, who wore his thick plaited beard like a necklace, had gobbled down three whole wheels of cheese without blinking. He was the companies cook and had an appetite as large as his waistline. Bifur, with an orc axe protruding from his head and wild black and white hair, looked feral. Due to his severe head trauma Bifur could only communicate in the dwarvish language of Khuzdul and its sign language, Iglishmêk.

In front of them rode the brothers Dwalin and Balin; the first dwarves that Bilbo had met. With his bulging arms, battle scars, tattoos and what seemed to be a permanent scowl etched on his face, Dwalin was daunting. Balin was much more approachable and as one of the oldest dwarves among the company, he was also one of the wisest. After them there was Gloin, who had the longest and thickest beard that reached his belly, and a temper that was as fiery as his russet hair.

"What about her?" Bilbo asked curiously, nodding towards Iarí riding by Thorin. Gandalf hadn't needed to remind him of Thorin's name. "Is she his daughter?"

"No, no, Thorin has no children," Gandalf replied, "Only his sister-sons. But Iarí is like a daughter to him I suppose. She is his ward you see. He took her in after-"

"Gandalf," Fíli interrupted sharply from behind them, causing the wizard and the hobbit to turn in their saddles. "That is not your tale to tell," He said pointedly. Gandalf nodded, saying nothing more on the matter. Bilbo looked away awkwardly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable under the sudden serious gazes of the brothers at the back.

Bilbo looked up the procession to the she-dwarf. Her long dark hair was tied loosely down her back with a thin ribbon of leather; her heavy cloak was thrown over her saddle behind her, too hot to wear in the warm weather.

"I've never seen a lady in trousers before," Bilbo mused to Gandalf. "Is it usual for dwarf-girls?"

"Master Baggins, have you ever worn a dress?"

Bilbo's cheeks reddened as the clear voice from the front called out to him. Iarí looked to the hobbit from over her shoulder, having been listening intently to their conversation. The company of dwarves chuckled and chortled loudly and a small smirk tugged at the corners of Thorin's lips.

"No! No, I most certainly have not!" Bilbo said very quickly to refute the absurd notion.

"Then you do not know how completely impractical they are for fighting in."

"Fighting?" He squeaked, looking incredulous. "You fight?"

Iarí raised a brow. Her weapons on her back were blatant.

"Iarí is a warrior as well, Bilbo." Gandalf cut in before she could speak herself. "She grew up on the road travelling and was taught from a very young age so that she could help protect her family. She's very rare for dwarven female."

She turned her attentions back to the path as Bofur began humming a jaunty tune and general chatter sparked once more, silently hoping that Bilbo Baggins's had made the right decision in joining them. The road ahead would be ruthless for one so naïve.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Blah, ending of this is a bit poo. I'll probably end up editing it in the future.

At this point Iarí pretty much has the same views as Thorin/Dwalin do, but she's more concerned for his safety than anything else. She doesn't think he'll be able to hack it.

Bilbo does the whole sneezing "Wait stop! We have to go back for my handkerchief" malarky after this and Iari internally face palmed.

Iarí's whole depressing part of her back story is all tied up in a neat little bow now so I'm looking forward to focusing on Pre Hobbit chapters with adorable childhood adventures, lots and lots of firsts, and blossoming attractions :3 Yay

So I watched The Almighty Johnsons out of curiosity because Dean O'Gorman is in it... first 5 minutes of the very first episode and BAM -

_Hellooooo_ naked Dean

I seriously need more Anders Johnson in my life. Watch it and you'll see what I mean.

Follow me on my tumblr if you want! Link is on my profile :)

**Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think x**


	8. Durin's Day

**Author's Note:** Holy shit... His Lioness has reached over 10K views :|

HERE HAVE A CHAPTER AS A GREAT BIG THANK YOU :D

***Pre-Hobbit Chapter***

Fíli: 60 years old (18)  
Iarí: 58 years old (17)  
Kíli: 55 years old (16)

This happens months after **Chapter 7: Sharp**

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

**Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )**

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED T  
(some language I guess, not too sure - it just felt like a T)**

* * *

The night was velvety black and speckled with stars. The large pale face of the full moon loomed above the mountain peaks of Ered Luin. Loose fragments of rock broke away and scattered, tumbling down the blue mountainsides as a great hum from within the depths of rock and stone seemed to shake the very core of Middle-Earth itself.

No one slept that night, for it was Durin's Day… and the dwarves of the Blue Mountains were celebrating.

Large fire pits implanted into the dark stone floor of the Great Hall of Belegost were alit, brimming with dancing flames of red and yellow. Hot white sparks from the crackling fires soared and swirled up into the air, through the opening in the roof where the thick silver clouds of smoke rose up into the sky. The carved polished stone walls were cast with flickering shadows. The sounds of horns and drums bellowed in the deep, making the mountain tremble once more.

The hall was alive with music and laughter. The tables were piled high with mountains of bread, meats and fruits; lines of large boars and pigs roasted slowly on spits and the ale flowed freely. Dwarves danced beneath the stars. The women were dressed in their finest gowns of silk, velvet and lace. The jewels in their hair and wrapped around their necks and wrists flashed in the firelight as they giggled and gossiped. Young girls fluttered their lashes and flared their skirts at young lads in the pursuits of getting a partner to dance, whilst courting couples snuck away hand in hand into the shadows to steal kisses. Children ran excitedly around the thick crowds of drunken adults, shouting gleefully. Men hollered and howled with laughter as they threw back pint after pint of beer.

Iarí sprinted as fast as her feet could take her; dodging, bobbing and weaving swiftly through the crowd, the long skirts of her light lilac dress hitched in her hands, a broad impish grin on her face and an exuberant laugh echoing from her lips. She whipped her head over her shoulder as she ran, to try and keep track of her pursuer, but all that trailed behind her was a sea of dwarves.

The air left her lungs as she slammed into a hard chest. A pair of warm, rough hands caught and held her wrists as she jolted backwards, her head snapping up in shock.

Fíli stared down at her with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile on his lips. The startled look on Iarí's face melted away as she beamed up at him and let out a childish, drunken giggle. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes, he noticed, were glassy. The pale lilac dress she wore hugged the curves of her waist, the long skirts flaring loosely at her hips and grazing the floor. Around her slender neck hung a simple silver medallion necklace drawing Fíli's eyes down to the low embroidered neckline of her dress and the tops of her breasts that strained against the bodice, rising with each breath as she panted softly from running.

Before she or he could speak, another pair of hands attacked her sides from behind her and snatched her out of Fíli's grip.

Fíli watched as Kíli began to tickle her mercilessly, making her shriek and writhe against him. She struggled to get out of his clutches, wriggling and desperately trying to pry away his fingers from her sides, pleading him to stop and laughing breathlessly. Kíli, ignoring her pleas, smiled and laughed victoriously as he drove his fluttering fingers harder into her sides making her squirm and squeal and thrash in his arms.

"What's going on?" Fíli chuckled as Iarí managed to escape from his brother's clutches and darted behind him for protection.

"Look what she did to my hair!" Kíli fumed, pointing to his head and prowling around his brother to try and get at her again. Fíli burst out laughing seeing Kíli's appearance. His dark shaggy locks were brimming with flowers interlaced into the mass of braids that he was now sporting. Fíli even thought he spotted a couple of vegetables and a sausage woven into his brother's new hairstyle. Iarí yelped and circled around Fíli as Kíli lunged for her once more.

"I was bored!" She tried to reason through her laughter. "Because _someone_ decided to take a nap like an ickle baby dwarfling!"

"I didn't fall asleep, I passed out!" Kíli rectified, pouncing on her once more.

"Poor Prince Kíli! Can't hold his drink!" Iarí shrieked loudly as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into the air.

"How drunk is she?" Fíli asked, slightly amused, slightly concerned, as Kíli settled her back onto her feet and she staggered with a dopey grin on her face.

"Very!" She announced, throwing her arms above her head and twirling. "We've not stopped drinking since dinner!"

"You've got a _lot_ of catching up to do, brother," Kíli grinned, a little more sober from his nap, wrapping his arm around Iarí's waist to help stabilize her. Iarí giggled happily and clung to his neck, planting a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

"You look _very_ pretty, Kíli." She gushed, picking a flower from his hair and sniggering. Iarí had always been an affectionate drunk. Fíli looked on, suddenly feeling a little excluded and uncomfortable. She glanced up at him, resting her head on Kíli's shoulder, criticizing his lack of inebriation from beneath heavy lids.

"Fíli's not drunk, Fíli should be drunk!" She declared, slurring her words slightly and untangling herself from Kíli before flitting away into the crowd shouting, "We need more ale!"

Kíli laughed and Fíli shook his head with a smile as she went skipping out of sight. Kíli pulled one of Iarí's plaits in front of his face and scowled at it before hastily unbraiding it, throwing the flowers to the floor.

"That girl could drink us all under the table." He mumbled, perching on a nearby table and pouting as he focused intensely on picking apart his new hairstyle. "I think I lost count after her twelfth tank."

Fíli pursed his lips, far away in thought, folding his arms across his chest as he leant on the table beside Kíli. Without his permission his mind trailed back to when he had caught her against his chest, remembering the way she had looked so pleased to see him, her hazel eyes had brightened and she had relaxed in his grip… the soft mounds of her breasts heaving…

"When did she get so… womanly?" He voiced his question to his brother. Kíli paused, peering at him with a raised brow.

"Not very astute are you, brother?"

Fíli grimaced at his own ignorance. Iarí had always been skinny and straight, like an arrow; he hadn't noticed when she had developed the body of a woman. It was strange to him that the girl he knew as a child now had breasts. Against his chest they had seemed supple and soft, the smooth pale skin peeking from the fabric of her dress. The size of them could have easily fit into his hand...

"Where were you?" Kíli's question snapped Fíli from his thoughts.

"I was busy."

"It's Durin's Day," Kíli looked at him suspiciously, "Busy doing what?"

Fíli avoided his brothers inquiring gaze but a small, smug smile tugged at his lips as he answered.

"A lad has needs."

Kíli's eyes widened as he smirked, slapping Fíli on the arm and chuckling lowly.

"Oh."

The brothers swiveled their heads at the little exclamation and their smiles fell from their faces. Iarí stood with large tankards of ale in her hands, her face blank and emotionless as she stared at Fíli. He felt his stomach drop.

She had overheard.

Staring back at her, he realized he hadn't wanted her to know. He shifted on his feet, uncomfortable beneath her gaze. She brushed past him, settling down the tankards that she had brought for them onto the tabletop and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, I hope you picked your whore wisely. Wouldn't want your cock to fall off." She smirked wryly, avoiding his stare and bringing a tankard to her lips, gulping down the pint of ale quickly. Fíli flinched at the bitter sting in her voice and Kíli watched silently as she finished the pint, wiping her chin with her sleeve.

"I'm going to dance." She announced, slamming down her tankard, glancing at Fíli with cold eyes as she turned and walked away.

She felt slightly better as her skin began to tingle once more, her head becoming lighter. A deep horn blew loudly and she felt it vibrating through her bones. Drums began to beat as the music sounded through the hall. The floor beneath her feet began to sway as she pushed through the crowd. Her thoughts began to slow and blur and she was thankful.

She didn't want to think anymore.

She didn't want to _feel_ anymore.

She wanted to drink until she forgot the burning anger she felt and the clenching pain in her chest, which felt like her heart was being torn out, to stop. She plucked another tankard from a passing dwarf and downed it hastily, dropping it carelessly onto the floor when it was empty. The effect of the large consumption of ale was blanketing her mind, the simplest movements requiring all of her concentration. She stepped into the large circle where the dancers swirled around the large fire pit. The heat of the flames pulsated against her, warming her skin but she felt cold inside. She closed her eyes and let the music engulf her, swaying her hips and winding her hands through the air, moving her body slowly and sensually to the music.

She wanted the pain to stop.

She wanted to forget.

She needed a distraction.

With one glance in his direction Élan, son of Bradin broke away from outskirts of the circle and strode towards her as she rolled her hips and shoulders. Élan was tall and broad, with soft raven hair, cut to the nape of his neck, a dark rugged beard and green piercing eyes. He was the son of the butcher whose shop was across from her father's forge and he was handsome. He was flirtatious but he was good-hearted.

And he wanted her.

And she wanted to feel wanted.

She smiled at him as he approached her, holding out his hand to her and inviting her to dance with him. He eyed her hungrily as she circled around him slowly, trailing her hand over his muscled chest and back. His hands found her hips as she stopped in front of him, leaning forward at the waist as she rolled her shoulders, leaning back and moving with him to the music. He took her by her hands and spun her in his arms, pressing her back into his chest as she swayed her hips to the drums, sliding down his body.

Fíli scowled as Iarí danced with the lad, moving her hips against his and letting his hands wander over her. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted and her head rolled back against his chest, her arms winding behind his neck and into his hair. The lad's hand held her dangerously low on her stomach against him and his other clutched her arm around his neck. Fíli glared as the lad bowed his head against her neck, whispering his lips against her skin, making her smile. The dance called for a change of position and Élan brought her hands from his neck and twirled her round in his arms, lifting her into the air with ease and wrapping his arms around her thighs. She arched her back with her arms high above her head, as he spun her around slowly. Fíli felt sickened as Élan ravaged her with his eyes, sliding her against his body as he settled her back onto her feet.

Iarí smirked as she pressed her palm against Élan's, breaking away from him as they circled each other. Her blood was rushing through her veins, her pulse thumping loudly in her ears and the haze of alcohol flooded her mind. All she knew was that the feel of Élan's hands on her made her feel good and that she could feel a heavy stare boring into her back as she danced.

Her eyes flickered to meet Fíli's and she looked at the dark expression on his face with satisfaction, not breaking contact as she gyrated against Élan again purposefully, smirking as she felt his arousal against her backside. Élan spun her to face him, breaking her eye contact with Fíli, his eyes hooded with lust as he pressed her flush against him, his hands skimming over her hips and waist. His lips parted open and he tilted his head, slowly leaning forward.

Iarí was suddenly wrenched from Élan's arms as Fíli forced himself between them, holding Iarí by her forearm and pulling her behind his back, glaring down at the butcher's son.

"_Leave_," He snarled.

Élan looked as if he was about to argue but the expression on Fíli's face and the authority in his voice stopped him from speaking. Eyeing Iarí mournfully, he turned away in defeat. Iarí ripped her arm from Fíli's grasp and stormed away from him, angrily pushing past the dwarves in her way. She didn't stop until she was just about to reach the doors of the Great Hall when a hand reached out and grabbed her, halting her in her tracks.

"Don't touch me! I know where you've been." She spat with venom, trying to snatch her hand away from Fíli but he held on tight.

"What were you thinking, Iarí?" He yelled angrily, yanking her back to face him.

"I wasn't thinking."She hissed, struggling to get away. _That was the point._

"You were disgracing yourself dancing like that."

She burst into giggles, staggering in his hold. _He was talking to her of disgrace?_

"I'm sorry, my prince, did you not like my dancing?" She asked, leaning towards him and rolling her shoulders once more.

Fíli stared at her as her movement pressed her breasts together and he remembered the way she had looked dancing in the firelight. Swaying her hips seductively and arching her back she had had a dreamy look on her face as she had moved to the music. She had looked so alluring that he had felt a pull in his stomach to dance with her. But then she had called to her the dark haired lad, who he knew as the butchers' son. Iarí dancing with the lad looked wrong. Sordid.

He had needed to stop it.

"Élan seemed to like it." She purred, bringing him back from his thoughts, smiling slyly and biting her bottom lip. "In fact, I could _feel_ how much he liked it."

Fíli's eyes flashed as he stared at her in disbelief. Never before had she talked so lewdly. Never before had she shown any interest in the lads that pursued her.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You're what's wrong with me!" She yelled, her smile gone as she glared up at him. The fighting was sobering her and the pain was returning. He looked back at her so confused and angry, and her mind didn't understand why. Her mind didn't understand why was he so mad at her for dancing. She had just wanted a distraction from him, from the pain she felt because of him, and he didn't let her have it.

"I wanted to dance and it was no business of yours to intervene!"

"He was going to kiss you!" He snarled; the memory of the lad leaning towards her burned his mind.

"Maybe I wanted him to!"

Fíli flinched as if she had slapped him and released her from his hold, staring at her in disbelief. Her eyes flashed as she looked up at him, holding her wrist where he had gripped her tightly. She panted softly, her blood racing from her outburst. She desperately tried to quench the flutter of hope she felt when she realized that there was a hurt in his eyes.

"Why do _you_ care?" She asked with a soft bitterness.

Fíli's mouth fell open but he couldn't find the words. _Why did he care?_ She looked at him expectantly, the little crease between her eyebrows deepening, her hazel eyes beseeching. Her soft dark curls tumbled over the smooth pale skin of her shoulders and fell around her breasts. Her once straight and skinny figure that he knew, was curvaceous and voluptuous. He felt a compelling urge to run his hands over her waist and her hips. She wasn't a girl anymore, he realized. She was a woman.

"Because I'm your friend, Iarí." He explained softly, finding his voice and finding a reason. "I don't want you being perceived as a _whore_."

She winced at the word as her imagination forced images upon her that tore open her heart: a faceless whore kissing Fíli, as he held her in his arms, moaning with pleasure, naked and writhing as he drove into her again and again…

Iarí's palm stung as she slapped him, his head whipping to the side from the force of her hand. He raised his hand to his reddening cheek, staring at her in shock and confusion but she gave him no explanation. With a look of disgust she turned swiftly on her heels, storming away, leaving him behind her. Fíli watched her retreating figure, his hand still cupping his cheek, feeling the harsh sting prickle beneath his skin.

As she walked away from him, she could feel her heart breaking inside her chest and tears welling in her eyes. Her hope was gone.

He would never see her as anything more than a friend.

He would never see her in the way she saw him.

He would never love her as she loved him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Aaaannnnnggggssssttttt...

Why Fíli why? That was so damn uncomfortable to wriiiteee TTwTT

Sigh. I had this internal struggle about this, because yes it's always lovely when a couple loses their virginity together but theres also the awkward "the fuck do we do? does this go there?" I can't exactly imagine dwarves being very vocal on sex ed. So yes I made this horrible decision, so that when it comes to it Fíli will know what he's doing.

But we shall never speak of it again. I fucking hate awkward ex/sexual partners talk in real life so theres no way in hell that this whore is getting brought up again.

Just want to clarify that it wasn't a dirty, cheap whore that he laid with, no no. More of a courtesan. There's a huge difference.

Loved writing drunk Iarí and Kíli though.

If you remember in **Chapter 5: Desire** Iarí said that "_She had abandoned all hope for those sort of requited feelings a long time ago_." Yep, this is when.

Sorry if you thought this fic was gonna be all sunshine and rainbows, but a little bit of angst makes it so much more delicious don't you think?

I was very much inspired by that scene in that Red Riding Hood movie for the dancing.

**Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review and let me know what you think x**

**P.S** you might have noticed that i've deleted I'ari's Character Design chapter. I didn't like it breaking the flow of my story so I've just put the link on my profile :)


	9. Escapade

**Author's Note: **This week has been a week of celebration!

All my mini portfolios for my university choices have been sent off so that's one thing off my chest. Great news! I got an interview for my top choice uni (the day after next D:)! When I got the email the noises that I made were inhuman. Everyone in my computer arts class was staring at me as I bounced up and down in my chair, flailing my arms and squealing. I was almost sobbing because I applied to this uni last year and got rejected before getting an interview so I am so fucking happy but so fucking petrified at the same time. This is the uni I **_desperately_** want to go to.

Another quick thing is that I shall be in Paris next week. Yep, **Paris** and I'm fucking excited because i'll be going with all my college friends and be strolling through all the galleries all day and partying it up all night with sexy french male models (did I mention that it'll be Fashion Week?)

_fuck yeah_.

**Anyway back to the chapter at hand**

I seemed to start several different chapters before I finally found this one was the one that flowed best. My first time writing a bit of action so please let me know honestly what you think about it.

***Pre-Hobbit Chapter***

Fíli: 53 years old (16)  
Iarí: 51 years old (15)  
Kíli: 48 years old (14)

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

**Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )**

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED T  
(some language, some violence)**

* * *

"_Shh, _Kíli! Do you _want_ us to get caught?"

Kíli muttered a hushed apology.

"You're both about as stealthy as Oliphaunts!" Iarí hissed as she began the scale the thick stone outer-wall of the city, gripping her fingers tightly into the cracks between the blocks and making sure that her footing was firm as she climbed. "Now come on!"

Under the cover of darkness, before the sun had begun to rise, the trio had met, successfully sneaking out of their warm beds with their weapons across their backs. They had crept quickly and quietly through the sleeping city, darting into alleyways and behind carts to avoid being seen by passing guards on night duty, hurrying to the western wall at the lower levels near the stables, for on the other side of the outer wall was a tree; a tall towering pine with thick branches that rose above the stone.

Fíli and Kíli began to follow Iarí up the high wall. They only had a brief amount of time as the guards of the gate changed for morning watch. She reached the top a little before them, swinging her legs over and rising steadily to her feet, standing atop of the wide breadth of stone. Once both Fíli and Kíli joined her at the top safely, she took a deep breath as she leant forward, reaching out her hand to a branch of the pine that stretched just above her. Grasping it with both hands, the bark rough beneath her palms, she let her feet drop from the wall, swinging her body through the air and praying to Mahal that the branch she hung onto wouldn't break, before wrapping her legs around another so that she was sat securely in the tree. Fíli and Kíli followed her lead, jumping into the tree swiftly just in time as the new morning guard in the tower closest to them appeared on the battlements. The trio shared a broad grin between them in the dark before scurrying down the branches carefully.

Fíli reached the bottom first with a quiet thud, his eyes darting around warily and back up to the high battlements where the guard still stood oblivious to them. Reaching up, he wrapped his hands around Iarí's waist, helping her down as she lowered herself from the last branch, placing her hands on his shoulders. Kíli grasped the last branch, swinging himself down and letting go, landing softly on his feet.

"Let's go," Fíli whispered, looking to the others, excitement glittering in his eyes.

Crouching low they dashed from the pine, keeping close and concealed in the darkness, running along the jagged mountain wall until they reached the yawning mouth of the mountain. Checking and double-checking that the road into Belegost was clear, they stepped out from the shadow and safety of the mountain dwelling and into the wild.

The vast land of Eriador spanned before them, cast in the light of the early dawn, the sky overhead an array of lilac, pink and orange. From where they stood at the high peak of the incline into the mountains, they could plainly see the large stretch of forest littering the mountainside, the plains of grasslands beyond and far, far in the horizon the rising Hills of Evendim. The crystal waters of the River Lhûn snaked through the valley and far to the west of them glistened the Ice Bays of Forochel.

The world lay at their feet.

A summer breeze wafted over their faces and rustled their hair, the air crisp and clear, heavy with the scent of pine and rich, dry earth. Iarí inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and stretching her arms out as if to embrace the world, a broad smile on her face. Opening her eyes she looked to the brothers beside her, eager to see their reaction. Kíli's eyes were wide and childlike with wonder, Fíli's lips were pulled into a crooked smile, his cheek dimpling as he looked on in a mixture of awe and disbelief; as if he thought he were dreaming.

They had never been outside of the city walls before.

As heirs to the throne and of the line of Durin, they had grown up safeguarded in the protection of fortress city and under the watchful eye of their uncle. They had been taught how to wield weapons since they could walk, honing and perfecting their skills morning till night for five days a week. When they were not training, they were in lessons, learning the rich history of the Dwarven race, of legends and wars and battles. Though they loved combat with a passion, they had grown tired of simply striking at lifeless dummies and too easily defeating their opponents that could fight back. Somewhat audacious, headstrong and reckless, the princes were eager for their own experiences, their own adventures. They wanted a challenge. There was no way that Thorin would have let his nephews out of the city and into the wild at their age without a heavily armored escort, so they deemed it better to just simply sneak out.

Iarí grinned. She had been more than willing to join them. She hadn't been outside Belegost since she was a dwarfling. As much as she loved her new life in the city with her friends, she missed the excitement and the uncertainty of being on the road. Fíli and Kíli had been quite begrudging when they had discovered she'd already had her first kill when she was but 25. A very small orc pack had ambushed her family as they travelled through the Gap of Rohan. Her farther had killed the majority when they attacked but Iarí had bravely run one through with a sword as it approached her and her mother. She could still remember the foul smell of its blackened blood running down the blade.

Pulling Fíli and Kíli from their awed trance, she began to lead them into the forest. They were still too near the city that they could still be caught, and if they were, they would be marched straight to Thorin. They strode down the steep incline, delving deeper into the dense forest of towering pines and conifers, brushing past large clusters of ferns, making sure that they didn't trip over the large grey rocks that sprouted from the earth.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, its light dappling through the canopy of leaves above them, the trio travelled further down the mountainside, leaves and branches crunching underfoot, listening to the chirruping, tweeting birdsong chorusing throughout the forest. Rabbits rustled and darted through the bracken and squirrels scurried up and down the trees as the dwarves wandered through the wilderness. A loud barking screech suddenly cut through the serenity, halting Fíli, Kíli and Iarí in their steps.

"Just a fox," Fíli said reassuringly as Iarí curled her hand around the hilt of her sword.

"Don't be so skittish, Iarí." Kíli teased as she relaxed from her stiff stance, slinging an arm around her shoulders and hugging her into his side as they continued to walk. "You have us to protect you."

"I'm not being skittish." She said, shrugging off his arm. Fíli chuckled softly behind them. "I'm being _precautious_. Not everything in this forest is fluffy bunnies and foxes, you know."

It was true. There were wolves and bears and wildcats in the mountain forests, known to attack dwarves traveling the road, especially in the vicious winters when food for them was scarce. But they weren't the worst. Sometimes orcs and wargs had been spotted, skulking from the cursed realm north of the Misty Mountains.

They trudged along through the forests, the heat of the summer sun beating down on their backs, until they broke through into a small clearing where a trickle of a stream from the mountains had formed a small lake. The water looked cool and inviting and with one meaningful glance at each other, Fíli and Kíli dropped their weapons to the ground and started pulling off their coats and boots.

"What are you doing?" Iarí asked, staring at them incredulously as they began to undress.

"Going for a swim." Fíli replied casually with a crooked smile as he pulled his tunic over his head. Iarí could feel her cheeks begin to burn as her eyes trailed over the rippling muscles of his naked torso. A faint, pale line of a scar from a healed sparring wound ran over the crease of where the top of his arm met his shoulder, fine golden hair dusted his chest, trailing down the firm muscles of his stomach and dipping beneath the hem of his trousers where his hands began to loosen the laces. Iarí could feel her pulse quicken as he pulled down his trousers, stepping out of them in nothing but his braies.

With a whoop of laughter the half naked brothers raced, running over a large rock that overhung the lake and jumping off of it, diving into the water with a huge splash. As they emerged from the depths of the lake, Kíli spurted water from his mouth at Fíli who retaliated by splashing him.

"You coming?" Kíli called. She grimaced at the look in their eyes, telling her that they'd just drag her in if she refused. She sighed, dropping her sword, bow and quiver to the ground in defeat and kicked off her boots. She glared at them as they stared at her expectantly whilst she shrugged off her fur-collared coat and leather jerkin, feeling the benefit of the cool breeze through her thin soft grey linen tunic.

"You know there could be anything in that lake."

"Just get in here before we come get you, Iarí." Fíli warned, grinning and pushing his wet blonde hair back from his face. She stared as droplets of water trickled down from his long mane of hair, running over his broad shoulders. She huffed, pulling down her tight suede-cloth trousers until they pooled around her ankles and stepped out of them. She tugged at the long hem of her tunic self-consciously, ensuring that it covered her correctly, before striding over to the shore.

"Is it deep?" She asked warily, hesitantly dipping in her foot; the water was cool but not unpleasant.

The brother's looked at each before beginning to wade over to her, mischief gleaming in their eyes. Fíli lunged forward and hitched her roughly over his shoulder, ignoring her stuttering protests and her kicking legs. Kíli laughed loudly, splashing her as Fíli carried her out further into the lake. Iarí yelped before quickly clamping shut her mouth as he dunked himself and her along with him under the water, releasing her from his grasp. She felt herself shiver from the sudden shock of the cold lake as she resurfaced, spluttering colourful curses in Khuzdul and pushing her wet locks of hair from her face as Kíli laughed at her. She growled and sprang at him, catching him unaware as she forced him under the water.

As she let him up for air, her stomach dropped when she couldn't find ground beneath her feet. She began to panic and quickly paddled closer towards the shore, releasing a deep breath when she felt the soft mud of the lakebed squish beneath her toes. Fíli watched her curiously as the sudden tension from her relaxed and she panted softly, the panic in her eyes fading.

"I don't like deep water." She explained quietly, shooting him an accusing look and splashing at him vengefully. In the city she had never needed to tell them of her fear of drowning. Fíli looked rightfully remorseful as she waded back over to the shore, pulling herself from the water and wringing her hair. Her wet tunic clung to her figure, lean and slim but she had begun to notice slow changes to her body.

Hidden beneath the tight band across her chest, her breasts were beginning to swell, not as big as some of the other girls' she had seen, but they were plainly there. She could cup them in each hand and her dark pink nipples would harden when she was cold and when she ran her thumb over them. Short, dark curly hair had begun to grow on the mound of her sex and last winter she had 'flowered into womanhood' as her mother had called it. Iarí wouldn't have likened doubled over in pain, writhing and clutching at her stomach whilst she bled unnecessarily to anything to do with _flowers_. She was a _warrior,_ for Durin's sake. She had been cut and sliced and beaten and bruised but she had never known anything to be _that_ painful. It had felt like something was gnawing at her insides with sharp, stabbing teeth. She had almost screamed when her mother told her she would experience it once a month, _every_ month, for the rest of her life until she became old and withered.

_Her mind was changing too._

She looked over her shoulder at Fíli and Kíli wrestling still in the water, her eyes lingering on the contours of Fíli's back, feeling a sensual tickle low in her stomach. She averted her gaze quickly, wandering back over to where her pack lay to retrieve an apple and some dried meat for her lunch. A loud crack of a branch sounded by as she bent down to her bag, the birds in the trees suddenly became deathly silent and the friendly splashing behind her ceased. A dark cloud of dread washed over her and she stopped breathing as she heard a snuffling grunt close by.

"Iarí," Fíli called to her softly, his voice straining to remain calm. "Don't. Move."

She looked up slowly to face the great brown bear that stood only a couple of feet away from her. Its head the size of a shield, its course dark fur tattered and scarred and its blonde muzzle stained with the blood of its previous meal; its beady black eyes focused intently on her. In the water behind her, Fíli and Kíli didn't dare move in fear of splashing and startling the beast into an attack, silently hoping that if they were still, that the bear would simply move on. But the bear was vicious and hungry; it would not ignore the opportunity for a meaty dwarf-sized snack.

She held its gaze, her eyes flickering quickly to where her sword lay sheathed, just out of reach. As if sensing her intention, the bear growled and reared up onto its huge hind legs, looming 10ft above her. The scars and claw marks of its previous opponents marred its wide chest, its long yellow fangs bared as it roared. Iarí lunged for her sword, managing to only grip the handle before the beast batted her with the back of its heavy paw, sending her through the air. A sharp cry of pain escaped her lips as her back slammed into the rough bark of a tree, she gasped as the air knocked out from her lungs.

Fíli and Kíli took action, darting from the lake and diverting the bear's attention from where Iarí lay crumpled on the ground. She clutched at her left side above her hip where one of the long beasts' claws had caught her, vivid red blood began to seep through her wet tunic but thankfully the wound was shallow. Darting under the striking claws of the bear, Fíli and Kíli grabbed their weapons; Fíli unsheathed his twin blades quickly and sliced at the claw that swung for him as Kíli leapt behind the beast for his bow and arrow. He quickly notched an arrow in place, drawing back the bowstring to his cheek and aimed for the bears' thick neck. The bear roared in pain as the arrow pierced into its shoulder. Fíli slashed at its stomach, jumping back quickly as the beast landed back on its paws and lunged at him snarling, its iron like jaw snapping at his skin.

Iarí scrambled to her feet, drawing out her sword and running forward, hacking it at the bears' hind. It's large head snapped around to face her with a snarl and she had to jump back quickly to avoid its swiping sharp claws. With it's attention diverted, Fíli slashed at it again and Kíli loosed another arrow into it chest. The bear charged forward, roaring wildly as Fíli and Iarí assembled side by side, shooting out of the way of the barrelling beast, slashing their swords in tandem at its ribs. It spun around, turning on them again and rearing once more onto its hind legs. Fíli rushed forward, seeing his chance, making Iarí yell in fear. Kíli shot an arrow into the thick muscle of the bear's neck, stunning him from swiping its powerful paws at his brother whilst Fíli drove his twin swords forward into the bear's chest, angling the blades up, under it's ribs, slicing through it's vital organs. With a groan it twitched, its dark eyes going blank, and clawed limply at Fíli's bare back as he drew out his blades, stained red with blood. Lifeless, the bear fell to the ground with a heavy thud that shook the birds from the trees and into flight.

The trio panted heavily, staring in disbelief at the great mass of fur and muscle that lay dead at their feet. Iarí dropped her sword to the floor with a clatter and ran her hands through her hair, looking to Fíli and Kíli, a nervous giggle bubbling from her lips at their stunned faces. They looked to her and broke into broad grins, the adrenaline from the struggle still rushing through their veins. Kíli walked over, giving the bear a swift kick before retrieving his arrows embedded in its skin. Iarí grimaced at the blood beginning to seep from the clawed scratches on Fíli's back.

"That last move was reckless." She growled at him as he rolled his shoulders, dropping his swords to the ground. He stared at her questioningly as she bent down to her pack to retrieve a roll of gauze.

"It killed him though, didn't it?"

"You were lucky." She chided, walking back over to him and motioning to him to sit down. "If Kíli hadn't stunned him, he could have crushed you and then ripped your head off."

He lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged and facing the water. She placed herself behind him on the slight incline, her legs either side of his waist so that she could get close to treat his injuries. She gathered his long hair over his shoulder, her fingertips gliding softly over his warm skin, still slick from their short-lived swim, and uncorked her water-skin, pouring the cool, clean water over his back and washing away the blood.

"But he didn't."

"But he could have." She gritted her teeth, rubbing salve onto the long shallow scratches running diagonally from his spine to his right side below his shoulder blade. His hissed as the ointment began to sting. She passed him the end of the roll of gauze which he held as she wrapped it around his muscled chest, dressing his wounds skillfully. She stretched behind her to where her pack lay just out of reach for her knife, feeling the inside of her thigh pressing against his smooth, bare skin, hissing as the slash above her hip prickled with pain. Fíli whipped his head round to look at her as she managed to reach the strap of her pack and tugged it towards her, his brows furrowing in concern.

"You okay?"

"Mhm." She nodded, digging through her bag for her knife and cutting the gauze, knotting the ends together securely around his chest. Fíli turned round as she finished, observing the large bloodstain seeping through her tunic.

"Shit, Iarí."

He pushed himself onto his knees in front of her, still between her legs, his hands reaching to push up the hem of her tunic so that he could reveal the gash on her hip but she grasped at it quickly, pulling it down so that she remained covered.

"What are you doing?" She stammered, her cheeks threatening to blush.

"What?" He asked, puzzled to why she was suddenly acting so panicky. "I need to clean and wrap it."

"I can do it myself." She retorted, not removing her tight grip from her shirt.

"Come on," He reassured, chuckling softly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Fíli, I'm kind of half naked under here." She huffed, glaring at him with her cheeks burning.

"A job for Kíli then?"

Iarí slapped his arm as he grinned at her. "Just get me my trousers."

She wriggled into them when he passed them to her, ensuring that her underwear remained unseen as Fíli watched her cautiously and Kíli sat by her protectively, munching on some dried strips of beef, feeling a little disgruntled that he hadn't received a war wound too. Iarí tensed as Fíli pulled up her tunic once she had tied her trousers in place, exposing the pale skin of her stomach and the bleeding cut on her side. He grimaced as he inspected it tenderly.

"It might need to be sewn up when we get back." He concluded as he flushed it out with water and began wrapping the gauze around her. Iarí exhaled a shaky breath as his fingers grazed lightly against her stomach and hips, and she looked up at him: her eyes tracing over the small crease between his brows as he concentrated on his work, down to the thickened blond beard that framed his lips and ran along the strong edge of his jaw. He suddenly met her gaze, tying up the bandage and offered her a reassuring smile.

"We should probably start heading back after lunch if we want to make it home before dark." She announced, lying on her back and staring up at the clouds as Fíli moved away from her to retrieve their lunches.

"What's the rush?" Kíli asked cheerfully. "We could make a camp tonight, go back tomorrow."

"You're kidding, right?" Iarí scoffed, chuckling as Fíli passed her an apple and a portion of beef, sitting in between her and Kíli. "Thorin would kill us."

"The way I see it, he's going to kill us either way," Kíli shrugged as Iarí took a crunchy bite of the juicy apple.

"No, we won't prolong the inevitable." Fíli intervened firmly. "Once we're dry and dressed, we'll head back. Besides, Iarí needs to get that cut seen to."

After she had eaten her light lunch, Iarí could feel her muscles begin to ache from their struggle with the bear; the sweet smell of the forest was soothing and peaceful as she basked in the heat from the sun high above them, staring up at the white puffy clouds that sailed across the sky. Fíli stirred by her side, lying down on the cool grassy bank. She held her breath as she felt the smooth skin of his hand rest next to hers, unsure and unwilling to pull it away. After a few awkward seconds she felt his fingers brush against the back of her palm, curling under her hand and entwining his fingers with hers. She felt her heart flutter in her chest and tilted her head to look at him, his drying hair gleaming gold like a halo around his head, his bare chest glistening with a few stray droplets of water, softly rising and falling with each deep breath. His eyes were closed peacefully as he relaxed in the summer sun, a faint smile on his lips with relief that she and his brother had not been gravely hurt.

Iarí did not notice when her eyes lulled close and sleep took her, but she awoke to a shuffling noise and faint muffling of sound. She did not open her eyes but could feel the warmth of Fíli's chest beneath her cheek, her body curled against his side, her hand twined in his fine chest hair and her leg wrapped around his. She peeked through her lashes, hearing his soft breaths and feeling them lap against the crown of her head. His face was tilted towards her, buried in the dry curls of her hair and she felt his finger twitch on her hipbone, alerting her to the fact that his arm was wrapped protectively around her waist. Opposite her Kíli slept as well, tucked into the other side of Fíli with his head resting on Fíli's arm as he slept open mouthed, snoring softly. It was the way they slept whenever they slept together and she smiled at the warm comfort of the familiarity.

Once more Iarí heard what had originally stirred her from her sleep but the sound of a clearing throat cut through the silence loudly and close by, startling Fíli and Kíli awake. The trio snapped their heads up, blinking up at the figure that loomed over them, silhouetted against the sun that was now low in the sky. Iarí gulped and Fíli and Kíli paled as they looked up, meeting a pair of raging stormy blue eyes set in the irate face of Thorin.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oooooooooothey in trouuuubleeeee!

I thought it would be quiet nice since last chapter you had Iarí giving up on Fíli, that in this chapter Iarí's only just starting to crush on him :3

Ah puberty. What a joy. Took the whole "flowering" expression from GoT because it suits Middle-Earth better I think. Iarí's a late bloomer but I also reckon with the way the dwarf ages span it'd take longer for her body to fully develop and so then it happened very subtly (hence why Fíli didn't notice so much until she wore a snug dress).

Fíli and Kíli in braies... *purr*

Bless Fíli, he doesn't know he's accidentally coming across as flirtatious and turning Iarí into a pile of goo every time he touches her.

I'd love to get 100 reviews before my 10th chapter so I tell you what... If this reaches or exceeds 100 reviews before I go to Paris then the next chapter I write when I come back will have some lovely smut in it :) And no cheating with basic "Update soon!" reviews just to boost the numbers else I may not deliver!

**Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review and let me know what you think x**

**EDIT: **Teehee you did it! 100 reviews! Looks like you're getting some smut next chapter ;D **Silvereyed Queen **you sly devil. Already got the boring bit of the chapter down and out of the way and now suddenly the conversation has begun to flow! Will be working on it tonight until I go to be but then I won't be working on it again or uploading it until after my interview on Wednesday :)

Thank you my lovelies! (please don't stop leaving reviews though! They feed my creativity and help me get chapters out faster!) xx


	10. Bree

**Author's Note: **Here's the last chapter I'll be updating until I return from Paris in a week :) Thank you so much for the 100 reviews! I read every single one and they make my day a little bit brighter :3

Good news! I had my interview a couple of days ago and I am fucking ecstatic to say that they offered me a place right after my interview! ASDFGHJKL! I was in a semi state of shock and my mum and I screamed once we got into the car.

I think I've unconsciously decided to run the Hobbit chapters in chronological order, but I'll still be weaving pre Hobbit chapters inbetween them. I've got the final events from Mirkwood to the Battle of Five Armies all planned and developed and it's gonna be a long while until to see them but I'm so excited to write them. I kinda can't wait to write crazy Thorin. There's gonna be a semi big change from the books and it'll be the only drastic change that I'll be making from the original storyline I think. But I can't tell you because it's a secret :3

Once again thank you for the 100 reviews!

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

**Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )**

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M  
(as promised ;D)**

* * *

The company had been on the East Road for eight days; their pace steady and unhurried on their laden ponies. The days went by uneventful and a routine was quickly established. They would rise in the morning, eat a quick breakfast, pack up camp and start the day's ride. Then, when it was midday, they would settle to stretch their legs, give the ponies a rest and eat lunch before continuing; riding until evening set in, eating supper and making camp for the night with an schedule of night-watches arranged between the dwarves.

The last days of April had been cool and dry, which was very agreeable for travelling, as was the beginning of May. The company would entertain themselves with songs and stories, which Bilbo listened to intently with fascination as they rode through the rich green hobbit-lands. He rode safely in the middle of the procession on his own, not quite feeling fully integrated into the group and a little like an outsider, for the dwarves all knew each other and knew each other well.

The majority of dwarves were cheerful, laughing and chatting merrily as they went, and some would ask Bilbo a question or two, that he happily answered. There were a few exceptions. Thorin remained stern-faced and solemn at the front, only looking behind when someone laughed particularly loudly or when someone called to him specifically. Bilbo could count on one hand how many times he had seen the leader of the company genuinely smile. Not once had he seen him laugh though. Sometimes Bilbo wondered if Thorin was even capable of laughter.

The meals that Bombur cooked were always hot and tasty and of a good sized serving, although they didn't come as often as Bilbo would have liked. A few times Fíli and Kíli had wandered from the group to hunt and brought back rabbits slung over their shoulders and sometimes even a deer. Bilbo had paled and almost lost the contents of his stomach when the brothers gutted and skinned the kills right in front of him. No one else had even flinched. Not even Iarí.

"So messy," She had tutted, leaning into Fíli and wiping away a splatter of blood from his cheek, before taking the pelts from him to wash the fur of any blood in the little stream that they had camped by for lunch.

The dwarves' table manners hadn't improved much and their snoring wasn't that great either, neither after a couple of days was their smell, but so far adventures were not as nasty and uncomfortable as Bilbo had first thought.

He was the furthest he had ever been from home. They had crossed the Brandywine Bridge and left the safety of the Shire borders far behind them, entering the lands of Big Folk and dangerous creatures. The Baggins side of Bilbo wanted to turn promptly round and return home to Bag End, to his books and his armchair, but the blasted Took side in him pressed him to go on, to see the things and the lands he had only read about.

He was more than glad when they stopped to spend the night in the town of Bree, nestled in the safety of the thick stone walls that surrounded the perimeter. Bilbo was overwhelmed at just how _big _everything was. The timber-framed buildings towered above him, as did the people. Never before had Bilbo felt so incredibly small, feeling each heavy curious stare weighing on him whilst he walked amongst the company of dwarves through the streets. Iarí disappeared swiftly when they passed the market to go and sell the pelts that she had collected, returning with a purse full of gold and silver, which she shared equally between Fíli, Kíli and herself.

As the local alehouse, The Prancing Pony was crammed full of Men. They looked grimy and haggard, untrustworthy looking sort of folk with narrow, beady eyes and missing teeth, muttering and whispering, glancing often in the direction of the dwarves suspiciously. The air was thick with smoke from their pipes and loud with laughter and drunken chatter.

Whilst Gandalf spoke softly to the innkeeper, acquiring accommodation for the night, the dwarves settled down at a large benched table, unloading their packs from their shoulders but keeping their weapons close at hand.

"Keep your wits about you." Thorin ordered his companions, who nodded with grim faces, looking around cautiously. No one was to talk of the quest for fear of being overheard, so there was a guarded silence around the group.

The cautious tension surrounding the dwarves lightened somewhat when food and ale was brought for them. They were served thick and juicy steaks with buttery mashed potatoes, vegetables and rich meaty gravy, which they eagerly devoured, washing it down with pints that were as large as Bilbo's head. Gandalf joined them at their table having acquired several rooms on the third floor of the inn for them, and pulled out his pipe. Fíli and Kíli had kept Iarí close by their side all day whilst in Bree, glaring at any man who came too close.

"We dwarves are fiercely protective of our women." Bofur explained quietly to Bilbo, having noticed the way the hobbit stared at the brothers curiously when they had shifted Iarí closer in between them, after a particularly drunken man had looked at her a little too long for their liking. "There're not many of them you see, only about a third."

"Why's that?" Bilbo asked puzzled, glancing at Iarí who was shoving at the brothers irritably to stop crowding her.

"Because we dwarves are stubborn, Master Baggins," Bofur answered, laughing heartily. "Most men don't want wives or can't find a woman they _want_ to be their wife." He shoveled a large forkful of mash into his mouth, tilting his head thoughtfully as he chewed before adding, "Mind you the women are far worse though."

"Worse?"

"Aye," He nodded. "They'll desire one man and one man only and if they can't marry the man that they want, well then they won't marry anyone! No marriage, no dwarflings."

"Well that's… inconvenient, I guess." Bilbo muttered quietly, making Bofur chuckle.

"It's just the way we are." He shrugged with a smile. Bilbo turned his gaze back to the she-dwarf planted between the young princes, eating, drinking and laughing at the end of the table. The smile on her face was exuberant.

"Those two though have probably diminished our population with the amount of lasses that they've left broken hearted back in the Blue Mountains." Bofur said leaning into Bilbo and pointing accusingly at Fíli and Kíli with his knife. Kíli's dark head looked up from his meal and he winked at them with a wide grin, his cheeks stuffed with food. Fíli remained stoic, taking a swig of his ale, whilst Iarí rolled her eyes.

"You're lucky you have your looks, Kíli." She teased, prodding his bulging cheek. "No maiden will marry you for your table manners."

"And why would I want a wife when I have lovely lasses falling to their knees for me?" He grinned roguishly in response, his eyebrows wagging.

Bilbo's face flushed bright red at the insinuation. No respectable hobbit would ever say something so bold and lewd at the dinner table, _and in front of a lady!_ The she-dwarf in mention just rolled her eyes once more and shook her head smiling as the other dwarves by them jeered and laughed.

"Forgive my brother, Mister Baggins." Fíli smirked, the long blonde braids of his moustache twitching, having noticed Bilbo's crimson complexion. "His brain doesn't see that much of his blood."

Iarí pursed her lips together and giggled as Kíli reached over her to whack his head but Fíli leaned away, dodging his assault. Bilbo squirmed in his seat, the tips of his pointed ears so red that they were almost glowing. The poor little hobbit was so naïve it was almost endearing.

"He blushes like a maiden." She whispered wickedly into Fíli's ear, hiding her smirk behind her pint.

"Aye, I think he fears for your virtue," He whispered back, chuckling lowly. "Your sweet and innocent female mind could be so easily corrupted being in such lewd company."

"Poor fellow, he should spare himself the trouble." She giggled, looking up at him, suddenly realizing her mistake.

They were too close.

She could feel the familiar flutters in her stomach and the crackle in the air between them like lightning in a dry thunderstorm. The room around them was fading quickly as he noticed her eyes begin to darken, her fingers twitching to curl around his, resting so close beside hers on the tabletop. Her eyes darted to his lips, so tempted to close the small distance and…

"I need a bath," She announced to the company, standing up abruptly. "I'm starting to smell as bad as you lot."

The company laughed, playfully insulted. She looked to each their faces, looking for any sign that someone had seen her slip up with Fíli, looking a little flustered beside her, but the short second had gone by unnoticed. She bade them a goodnight, giving Thorin a small bow of her head. As she made her way to the staircase that lead up to the rooms she pressed a gold coin into the hand of the innkeepers' wife for hot water.

Gandalf had acquired her a room of her own, as the innkeeper didn't think it proper for her to share with men. It was simple but pleasant, with a large poster bed and a hearth settled in the stone wall with plenty of firewood by its side. Outside the lattice windows the night was dark with a few drunken men still roaming the streets.

Once the innkeepers' wife had brought her a bath, she shed her clothes and lowered herself into the hot water. Her tight muscles began to unwind as she scrubbed her skin with a bar of soap that smelt like honey and milk. She ducked under the water to wet her hair before working to untangle the knots, running through it with her fingers before cleaning it of the dirt and grease with the soap. Once clean she sighed, lolling her head back against the rim of the tub, closing her eyes as she soaked in the soothing warm water.

Her hands ran along the flesh of her thighs as the memory of her last night with Fíli stirred in her mind. She parted her legs, ghosting her fingers up the silky inner skin, shivering a little at the sensation. Biting her lip she ran a finger over her folds, her breath hitching as she brushed her nub. Her eyes snapped open and she growled in frustration.

It just wasn't the same.

She huffed and pulled herself from the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body. Fíli hadn't caressed her since their last morning in Belegost and the _need_, the _desire…_ the _craving _for him was beginning to burn.

She dried herself, dressing in a clean tunic and trousers from her pack, her frustration making her movements sharp and agitated. It felt as if her pining desire for him was swelling inside her, heavy and uncomfortable, seeking the blissful release only his intimate touch could provide. They could talk, they could be close, they could steal glances, but eyes were always on them. She could not kiss him, she could not caress him, she could not even permit herself to sleep by his side for fear of entwining with him in the night. It was a cruel torture to constantly have to deny herself her aching desires and to watch him have to deny his.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice when the door to her room clicked open and closed, nor the soft padding of feet as they strode quietly across the room. She stifled a scream as an arm wrapped around her stomach and a rough palm clamped over her mouth.

"Shh," A voice whispered as she clutched frantically at the arms that held her tightly as her captor pressed a slow, tender kiss to her neck. "It's me."

"Fíli?" She whimpered softly as he removed his hand from her mouth, his fingers trailing down her neck and across her collarbone to loosen the laces of her tunic. His hand around her waist glided over to her hip, caressing the sensitive spot by her hipbone whilst he brushed his lips along the curve of her neck. She melted into his arms as his tongue licked at the skin beneath the hinge of her jaw, closing her eyes and biting back a moan with want simmering between her thighs. As his teeth grazed her ear gently, his hand ducked beneath the loose fabric of her shirt and cupped her exposed breast, massaging the soft mound in his palm. Iarí sighed, arching her chest and pushing harder into his hand, lolling her head back against his shoulder as his hot breath tickled against her ear, sending sweet shivers down her spine.

Soon after Iarí had left for her bath, Fíli had not been able to resist, almost twitching in his seat whilst the others conversed and smoked their pipes around him; his thoughts upstairs with her as she undressed and bathed… truly alone for the first time in _weeks_. His mind made, he had hastily pressed another gold coin into the innkeepers' wife's hand for a bath and for his excuse, before he strode to his room without suspicion.

"We don't have long." He murmured apologetically, applying more pressure with every caress, his thumb running over her nipple as it hardened and pebbled, his cock twitching at the little breathless moan that escaped from her lips as he did. He pressed her hips harder into his, his jaw clenching at the crushing friction as she writhed her rear against him.

"W-we shouldn't." She whispered weakly, her fingernails digging into his arm as his lower hand slid between her thighs, cupping her sex over her trousers with a slow caress, feeling the heat radiating beneath his touch.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice strangled with desperation as he whispered against her skin. "Don't send me away-

"_Fíli_-

"We're finally _alone_."

Iarí bit her lip, shifting her hips against his hand that held her firmly in place, aching for the sweet friction she was yearning for, but he remained still, refusing to respond to her silent plea. She turned her head to look at him; his hair, beard and braids were damp and darkened from a hurried bath of his own, his breath slightly shaking, his smokey blue eyes saddened, silently begging her not to reject him. Any hindering thought vanished. Her lust hooded gaze fell to his lips, licking her own in anticipation before slowly nodding her assent.

His tongue plunged into her mouth as he took her lips with fervor, a growl rumbling in his chest as they kissed franticly like time-fated lovers. He pulled away from her lips as they began to struggle for air, his lower hand skillfully undoing the ties of her trousers.

"We'll have to be quick." He murmured regretfully, returning his lips to her neck. She just nodded again and writhed against him, vibrating with suspense. She didn't care how fast and fleeting their time together would be, she just wanted to revel in the pleasure of him once more.

He ducked his hand beneath the hem of her trousers, his fingertips brushing past the soft curls and running along her folds, finding her already saturated and silky with arousal. The sound of her dulcet gasp stirred the lusty throbs in his groin as he slipped two fingers inside of her, his other hand kneading her breast as she bucked her hips and ground against him, restrained and helpless in his hold.

He thrust his fingers in and out of her rapidly, feeling her quiver and pant, the silky flesh of her core slick and hot around them. He bent his head to the crook of her neck, exhaling a shaky groan as he peered down at his hands on her body. He pulled his fingers out of her, drenched from her desire, to find her most sensitive spot. Swollen and hard beneath its hood he circled it firmly with his fingertips, her gasps and quiet whimpers a sweet melody to his ears.

Iarí trembled as his fingers swirled in a steady rhythm, working relentlessly to push her over the edge. The muscles in her legs quivered as the tingles between her thighs spread, consuming her senses. Deep in the pit of her stomach she could feel the swell of her impending oblivion knot and churn before finally exploding. Throwing her head back, she whimpered a loud cry as the hot waves of pleasure pulsed through her.

Fíli clamped his hand over her mouth again to try and muffle her euphoric moans, burying his face into her damp curls as she arched and shuddered in his arms. He groaned with the arousal of watching her come undone, his length hard and throbbing, smashed between their bodies. He removed his hand from her mouth when she stilled, still shivering slightly as the surge of her ecstasy ebbed. He kissed the top of her shoulder soothingly whilst she gasped and panted, releasing his tight hold on her and taking his hand from between her thighs. He had meant to give her a moment to recover, but she had other ideas

She spun around and attacked his lips. Her fingers dived down between them so that she could untie his trousers as she kissed him passionately. She wanted to repay him. She wanted to see his meet his own oblivion. With a free hand she tugged at her loosened bottoms until they pooled at her feet and she stepped out of them, her lips staying latched to his, his beard coarse against her skin.

Realising her intention he cupped her ass and lifted her from the floor, her legs wrapping around his torso as he carried her to the side of the bed and pressed her into the mattress roughly. He freed his erection from its confines as her fingers fisted into his hair, clutching him closer. Covering her body he positioned himself between her thighs and pushed his entire length into her with one swift thrust. He moaned into her mouth as her walls clenched around him; she was warm, wet and tight and he knew he would not last much longer.

He began to rock his hips in an urgent rhythm, desperately grunting and clutching at her hips, arching them off the bed so that he could drive into her deeper. With a breathless mewl she pulled her lips from his and moved them to his neck, kissing and licking the tender spot below his ear as he thrust into her hard and fast. When he felt her teeth graze his earlobe and she moaned his name in a whisper, he came undone. His heartbeat pounded in his ears he smothered his husky groan into her neck, twitching and jerking inside of her, shuddering as the last tremor of his release wracked through his body. He rested his forehead against hers as they tried to catch their breath, drawing himself out of her, their skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

Looking into her eyes he felt guilty.

He hated that it had been so urgent. Borderline aggressive. Restraining her as he had forced her to cum. There had been no affection, no tenderness that she deserved. It had been an explosion of lust from weeks of pent up frustration. So he kissed her, soft and slow, caressing her cheek. Gentle and loving as he hadn't been.

She smiled against his lips, sighing. She didn't want him to leave, but didn't voice any protest as he lifted himself from her, fastening his trousers before readjusting her rumpled tunic, peppering her chest with light kisses as he retied the laces to cover her breasts. She sat up on the bed and grinned up at him, still glowing in a post-bliss haze. He stood between her legs and cupped her face in his hands, pressing another tender kiss to her lips.

"I wish you could stay." She murmured as he began to pull away. She wouldn't ask him, she knew there was no possibility that he would. _Could_. He was to share a room with Thorin, who would undoubtedly notice his nephews' absence.

"I do too, my love." He sighed, stroking her cheek. So used to sleeping with her in his arms for the past years their sudden separation had caused his dreams to turn dark and restless. His jaw clenched as he realized that tonight she would have to be alone, separated from the safety of the group with drunken men lurking just downstairs.

"Be sure to lock the door after I leave." He requested softly, his eyebrows scrunching together as he looked at her with concern.

"I'll see you at first light." She smiled, finding his overprotectiveness endearing, meeting his lips in a parting kiss.

Bilbo stifled a yawn into his fist. He was incredibly eager for a nice warm bed after a week of sleeping on very uncomfortable, rocky ground. He had left the dwarves downstairs, still drinking, still laughing and on their second servings. He rounded the corner into the hallway where their rooms were, pausing in his steps as the blonde brother Fíli exited the room at the end of the corridor, looking over his shoulder and smiling as he pulled the door closed behind him. The dwarf's hair was a little mussed and damp, the fabric of his tunic crumpled. He looked up as he began to walk down the corridor to find Bilbo staring at him.

"Mister Baggins." He said, his smile faltering slightly and his blue eyes widening as he jerked to a halt. The hobbit stared back at him with his brow creasing, his eyes darting to the door Fíli had just come from questioningly.

"Are the others still downstairs?" He asked, finding some composure, praying to Mahal that they were for he and Iarí had struggled to keep as quiet as they should have. Bilbo just nodded, his mouth opening as if he was about to speak but Fíli opened the door to his room beside Iarí's and quickly grabbed his coat. Shrugging it on quickly, he gave Bilbo a quick pat on the back as he passed him and wished him a goodnight, leaving the hobbit a little befuddled and standing in the corridor alone.

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**Author's Note: **

Originally in my head Bilbo came upstairs much, much earlier and kinda heard Iarí... you know. And he had interrupted them to come to Iarí's rescue (thinking she was in pain) and they had to kinda lock him in to explain and at very first Fíli was quite threatening and I didn't want that, so then Bilbo just kinda peeked inside, saw them, closed the door all blushing and embarrassed. And then in one ending Kíli found Bilbo after he peeked and told him not to tell. But then again I haven't fully enclosed if Kíli knows or not. I then decided that all these first alternate endings would have changed the relationship the trio and Bilbo too soon for my liking so this one happened. It's a little vanilla but Bilbo's a inquisitive little hobbit and I couldn't resist a little awkward Fíli.

It's head-canon for me that the Durin boys know how to dominate. Thorin especially but that's for a different story. Yeah Fíli felt a little guilty because I imagine he's a little more of a gentleman but Iarí kinda likes it when he's rough ;D. Will definitely be writing more dom!Fíli in the future... also dom!Iarí at some point. I like equality.

**Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think x**


	11. Slap

**Author's Note: **BONJOUR!

I'm officially back :D Paris was amazing and I had a fantastic time but my poor feet _still_ ache from the amount of walking I did and I've come back with a cold and cough thanks to the freezing cold weather and the bastards that I've been around who've given it to me :(

First week back (last week) I was so busy with getting sketchbooks hurriedly completed for assessment. Now at college we're starting our Final Major Project which will determine our end of year grades and I need a Distinction to get into the university that I want so it'll be hard work at college from now on. Heard back from my other applications and they both want me for interviews - one being the most prestigious Fashion Design university in England. I'm feeling a little smug about that.

Been staring at this chapter over the past few days because my brain was initially struggling on deciding which chapter to write and getting back into the flow of fanfiction writing. It evaded me at first but then this happened. It's more about the dialogue than a real plot but I know that Bookman wanted to know what happened after Durin's Day so that sort of prompted this chapter in the end.

Nearly at 20K views guys :D and I've nearly gotten 100 favourites so thank you so very much!

**Khuzdul words are in _bold italics_ and 10 points to whoever knows them. If not, a translation will be at the end.**

***Pre-Hobbit Chapter***

Fíli: 60 years old (18)  
Iarí: 58 years old (17)  
Kíli: 55 years old (16)

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC - writing for fun not for profit_

**Iarí's name is pronounced ( EYE-ARE-REE )**

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED T  
(language)**

* * *

"She _slapped_ you?" Kíli asked his brother incredulously, his dark brows rising.

"Aye," Fíli grumbled, unconsciously rubbing the side of his face where the faint red outline of her fingers still marked his cheek.

They sat perched on the boulders in the corner of the training grounds, watching as the new years batch of recruits, all just barely past thirty years old, trickled into the fields. They had all been excited and eager entering the arena to begin their first day of training but looking around the grounds now, wide-eyed at all the mass of burly, bearded and battle-scarred warriors, some looked pale and nervous, as if they would faint, but not before pissing themselves first.

After the long celebrations of Durin's Day all the warriors were nursing some degree of hangover so, delaying the days training, they crowded around to watch the little dwarflings in their induction; making bets as to which one would cry first, which one would run home to mommy and which one showed the most promise.

It was one of the brothers' favourite past times.

"I'm surprised she only slapped you," Kíli chuckled and cracking a grin much to his brother's annoyance. "I would have at least expected a broken nose… or a knee to the nads."

"Kíli, you're not helping."

"I'm just saying," He smirked. "You got to admit that just a slap is a little underwhelming for her. I'd say you were pretty lucky."

Fíli grimaced. Iarí wasn't one to be afraid of using her fists. He could have had much worse than a red mark on his cheek.

"_Why_ did she even slap you?" Kíli continued with his interrogation, having missed out on the seemingly dramatic fall out last night between his brother and friend. "What did you_ do_?"

"I stepped in when that butcher's son looked like he was going to kiss her. She stormed off, I went after her, words were exchanged and next thing I know, she slaps me." Fíli huffed; slightly annoyed that Kíli assumed it was his fault even though he was obviously the victim here.

"_Words_ were exchanged?"

Fíli opened his mouth to retort his brother's skeptical response, but was sidetracked from his answer when his eye spotted a figure entering the grounds alongside the large frame that was Dwalin. Her dark hair weaved into a loose two-strand braid hanging over her shoulder and fastened with a suede ribbon. The sleeveless vest she wore was of soft brown leather, laying over the top of a long sleeved woollen tunic the colour of topaz, and strapped around the waist, highlighting the female curves of her form. The tunic was cut low, the neckline running along the tops of her breasts; the pale mounds pushed upwards from the tightness of the vest that bound her. Beneath she wore her dark suede trousers, tight like a second skin around her legs with her heavy fur-lined boots on her feet. Her sword lay slung across her back in its sheath as she strode beside Dwalin, her eyes stern and unyielding as she criticised the pack of dwarfling recruits in front of her, their gazes darting back and forth between the master-of-arms and herself in awe.

Fíli stared at her, his mouth still open to answer his brother. As if she felt his gaze on her, she looked up to where the brothers sat, her eyes locking with Fíli's and narrowing into a glare. She was apparently still very angry with him.

"I don't know, Kili." Fíli groaned, averting his eyes from the burning intensity of Iarí's glare and rubbing his face with his hands. "I can't remember _exactly_ what I said. I got so drunk afterwards I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning."

"Well you obviously said something that pissed her off enough to cause bodily harm." Kíli murmured, watching his friend as Dwalin said something to her in low tones. Iarí nodded before approaching the first of the dwarflings who had assembled into a long line.

"Name?" She ordered, her voice ringing clearly through the grounds as she stopped in front of the small lad. A scribe brought down from the libraries joined her, standing by her side with a long piece of parchment, quill and ink in hand, poised to write.

"Olim," The lad stated bravely without hesitation as Iarí bent down in front of him. "Son of Daggim."

"Your strongest arm, Olim?" She asked, the scribe at her side scratching the name onto the paper. He promptly stuck out his right for her to take, unflinching as she ran her hands along his arm, assessing the strength of the muscle. She repeated the motion for his left, before taking both his hands and feeling his fingers and grip. His chin was raised and unwavering as she inspected him but a betraying faint red hue stained his cheeks and he refused to meet her eye whilst she took note of the broadness of his frame.

"Warhammer," She stated as she stood, hearing a loud, proud cheer from a dwarf in the crowd of watching warriors; his father no doubt.

Fíli had been watching intently from the moment he had heard her voice, furrowing his brows and compressing his lips together as he tried to recall the details of their fight, but thinking back to the night all he could remember was the image of her dancing with the butcher's son.

"I _might_ have said that she was disgracing herself," He murmured hesitantly, keeping his eyes on Iarí as she began inspecting the next recruit and avoiding the look his brother was giving him.

"That's not good," Kíli sighed.

"I was defending her honour!" Fíli retorted, feeling the need to defend _himself_. "The guy was a lecher! He had his hands all over her and was basically undressing her with his eyes! What was I supposed to do?"

"Fíli," Kíli chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Since when does Iarí need help with lechers? She could have quite easily taken care of him without you."

"She was drunk."

"So? She can still take care of them when she's drunk. Don't you remember that one lad-

"She was _encouraging_ him."

"Well then maybe she liked him. She's probably pissed at you because you got in the way." He shrugged.

"She didn't like him." Fíli said resolutely.

"How do you know?" Kíli asked, cocking a brow.

"I just _do_."

At the adamant tone in Fíli's voice the brother's fell quiet, watching as Iarí made her way down the line, the scribe taking down the names of the dwarflings and noting down her suggestions of what weapon they may specialise in. When some wavered in front of her and stuttered their name with anxiety she asked them what they were afraid of. Some were nervous that they wouldn't get the weapons that they wanted. Others were worried that they would disappoint their fathers. A couple of the smaller ones had told her, in no louder than a whisper, that they had heard rumours that she was actually a she-wolf in dwarven skin, which brought a smile to her face and forced laughter from her lips, lightening her dark mood a little.

"Okay," Kíli said, returning to their conversation. "What did you say to her _exactly_ before she slapped you?"

Fíli licked his lips, his brows scrunching together as he focused, trying to clear the hazy memory.

"That I was her friend… and that I didn't want her looking like a whore." He said, repeating the words.

Kíli struck his arm.

"What?!" Fíli cried, recoiling from his brother. "What did I do?"

"No fucking wonder she slapped you!" Kíli whispered through clenched teeth, aware of the sudden attention from a few nearby dwarves that Fíli had drawn to them with his exclamation. "You called her a whore, you dumbass!"

"No I didn't! I said that I didn't want her being _perceived_ as a whore." He promptly corrected in the same hushed tone.

"That's still calling her a whore!"

Fíli opened his mouth to argue, but closed it, suddenly finding the clarity and logic in what his brother was saying.

"Durin's beard brother," Kíli sighed exasperatedly before smirking and chuckling. "Can't believe she only slapped you."

Fíli's eyes flickered back to Iarí who was halfway through the line and approaching a rather proud looking dwarfling, his chin already bearing fine dark hairs unlike the rest of the relatively beardless recruits.

"Name?"

"Bartak, son of Balak." He stated, eyeing her with a look akin to distaste and an arrogant undertone in his voice, thrusting out his left arm before she even voiced the request. Iarí ignored his behaviour and began her assessment. The muscles of his biceps were strong but his grip was weaker in comparison.

"Spear." She said, standing and beginning to move on. He had the strength in his arm for deep piercing thrusts and the lack of grip would allow for impressive spins and swipes to his foes. With time and training the dwarfling could become very deadly with a double edge.

"_No_."

The stern exclamation caused the dwarflings nearby to gasp at the defiance. A few dwarves from the crowd chuckled heartily. Iarí continued on to the next recruit, who was looking up at her unsurely with his eyes darting back and forth between her and the previous dwarfling, Bartak.

"Name?-

"Oi! I won't fight with some poncey, wimpy ass spear!" He yelled irately, turning red in the face, his hands in fists by his sides as he shouted like a spoilt brat. "I want a warhammer!"

"You're not suited for a warhammer." Iarí retorted coolly, without so much a turn of her head. Excitement bubbled within the crowd and a few bets were placed.

"What would you know, you're a bloody woman!" He shouted, crossing his arms over his chest; challenging.

"How very clever of you to notice," She quipped, taking the arm of the dwarfling that stood in front of her and proceeding his assessment without his name. "Tell me, was it my breasts that gave it away?"

"Change it to warhammer!" Bartak demanded, turning from Iarí and approaching the scribe with his finger pointed. Before he could take another step towards the shying scribe a hand fisted around the scruff of his tunic and lifted him off the ground.

"Back into line, little pup." Iarí ordered as she plopped him back in his place. The dwarfling staggered as he righted himself, glaring up at her.

"I want a warhammer! I've been training!"

"Wrong, you've been training wrong." She snapped, her patience with the dwarfling wearing thin. She could feel Fíli's stare and it was beginning to bear down on her. She didn't want to be there, she had wanted to stay locked in her room, curled in her bed crying over her broken heart like she had been all night, but Dwalin had asked her to do the inductions and she wasn't willing to let her mentor down. "You have the strength, little pup, but not the grip. If we put a warhammer in your hands, it'll fly out of your grasp on the first swing and would endanger the dwarves fighting around you."

"But-

"_**Shazara**, _Bartak son of Balak, before I send you home to your mother." She snarled at the flustered recruit, effectively ending the little one's protests. She kept her eyes locked on the young dwarf until he yielded, averting his scowl in defeat, before returning to the next recruit.

"Name, little one?" She asked in a softer tone, trying to return the peace and not scare the others.

"Halar, son of Dwallar, Miss." The dwarfling replied, standing slightly straighter and inclining his head a little in respect. Iarí had to smile.

"You shall start with twin axes, Halar."

"Okay, so what do I do to make it right?" Fíli asked, turning back to Kíli now that the confrontation was over.

"I don't know Fíli, I tend to avoid pissing off she-dwarves." Kíli smirked. "And you just so happened to insult the only one that wields a blade."

"She can't hate me forever can she?" Fíli sighed, leaning his elbows on his knee and running his hands over his hair, groaning. The prospect of Iarí never talking to him again, never smiling at him, never laughing with him, it felt like an anvil on his chest.

"We're _dwarves_ brother, I'm pretty sure she could if she wanted." He replied, chuckling and rubbing his hand along his dark rugged stubble.

"Could you talk to her for me?" Fíli asked, looking to his brother with beseeching eyes. Kíli's expression was one akin to as if Fíli had just asked him to jump into a pit of Wargs.

"Why can't you? You're the one that pissed her off!"

"Exactly!" Fíli grinned, nudging his brother gently. "She's not mad at _you_."

Kíli narrowed his eyes but conceded that it was probably the best course of action. If Iarí was angry with Fíli, she wouldn't want to talk to him and she wouldn't want him anywhere near her. If he tried to approach her and talk to her when she's not ready to listen then it would just exacerbate the situation that they had gotten themselves into. Kíli, being a neutral party, was more likely to come back from an attempt of a reconciliation unharmed. He jumped down from his perch beside his brother on the boulder, looking back over his shoulder to see Fíli's worried gaze watching Iarí attentively, looking as if he were trying to solve a riddle, his chin resting on his knuckles as he leant forward eagerly on his knees.

"Anthen, son of Indden." He heard the recruit in front of Iarí answer as he approached her with a broad grin on his face. She glanced up at up him as he neared, resisting the urge to smile in return at his playful demeanour. Sometimes she hated Kíli for ruining her bad moods.

"I see you got those braids out."

"Yeah," He replied running his hand through his shaggy locks. "Thank you for that."

"Well I thought you looked beautiful." She grinned in return at his sarcasm, before turning to the scribe and telling him 'axe'.

"My hair smelt like flowers."

"Manly," She teased causing the little recruit in front of her to giggle a little before clamping his lips together.

"I had to have _two_ baths this morning," Kíli grumbled for effect, making Iarí smile.

"How terrible." She cooed, looking up at him and pouting her bottom lip before returning to her work. Fíli watched them from the boulder, too far away that he couldn't hear what they were saying unless they raised their voices, but he could see the easy smiles being exchanged between them.

"There it is." Kíli said, commenting on her smile. "You looked so damn serious."

"Induction is a serious business." She quipped, cocking a brow and rising to her feet. "And you're distracting me."

Kíli shuffled uncomfortably, unsure how to broach the tender subject of his brooding brother, of which Iarí noticed, having already guessed why he had approached her.

"I'm not mad at _you_, Kíli." She sighed before gritting her teeth, trying to be careful not to take her anger out on him. "Just your coward of a brother."

"He wants to apologize." He said softly, watching her cautiously and noticing her jaw tighten and her eyes narrowing slightly as her eyes unwillingly flickered to the blonde brother.

"Then why doesn't he apologise to me himself?" She asked through gritted her teeth.

"Would you hear him out?" Kíli countered, inclining his head to the side so that she'd look up at him, offering a knowing smile when she didn't answer. "Besides I think he's terrified of approaching you whilst you're armed right now."

"And what does he want to apologize for _exactly_?" She asked seriously. She didn't want an empty apology if he didn't know what he'd done to upset her. Not that he'd ever know the _real_ reason that she was so upset, but she thought that she at least deserved a sincere apology for a reason that could at least be valid.

"Everything," Kíli answered without hesitation. Iarí scoffed, already unsatisfied with the vagueness before Kíli had the chance to elaborate. "For insulting you, for being a dumb asshole and for basically ruining your night."

Iarí, her assessment momentarily forgotten, looked to the ground stubbornly with her mind ticking over. A part of her blamed herself. Fíli hadn't known that she was in love with him. He hadn't known, and maybe if he had, if he _did _know_, _then things would have been different. The stupid dwarf didn't know that she had felt so utterly betrayed when she overheard that he had bought pleasure. That she felt disgusted with herself for being so damn envious of the _whore_ that had been with him. He didn't know, so she wondered if she had any real right to be so angry and wrathful with him.

"You know he didn't mean what he said." Kíli said softly, stepping closer to her and lowering his voice from the prying ears of the dwarflings that were watching them with curiosity. "He feels ashamed about the entire thing."

"And so he should." She snapped quietly. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dwalin watching them carefully, his arms crossed over his giant warhammer, reminding her of the job she was in the middle of.

"Can you forgive him?" Kíli asked as she stepped towards the next recruit. "I'm not saying you have to immediately. You can take as much time you want about it." He added, holding up his palms in defensive at the fierce look she shot him. "I'm just asking if you _can_."

"Maybe." She sighed stubbornly, praying that eventually her heart would heal, and maybe when it did she could be content with just being Fíli's friend again and nothing more. "Eventually…" _She hoped_ "If he deserves it."

"Name?" She requested, turning away from Kíli.

Fíli watched in tense anticipation as his brother returned to him without a smile on his face. "Well?"

"I think you really hurt her, brother." Kíli sighed as he plonked down next to him causing Fíli to grimace.

"Well then what do I do about it?" He asked, his face falling and becoming disheartened. He hadn't meant to _hurt_ her.

"I suggest you beg."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Femaleminds can be so complicated sometimes.

The dwarfling induction was a spur of the moment idea that I wanted to run in the back - that they'd be given an initial weapon to try out based on strength and form and then they'd try out different weapons to see which suited them the most, or that they handled the best. They're not forcing a weapon on them, it's merely a suggestion at first but it's usually the right instinct. Iarí doesn't usually do this, she's normally beside the brothers but Dwalin's got a raging hangover and she's just avoiding Fíli and trying to keep herself busy.

Iarí's outfit in this chapter is actually quite significant. The cut is lower, the fit is tighter, it's a lot more blatantly feminine. Before she would wear borderline boys clothes in the grounds (much to her mother's dismay) (occasionally wearing dresses when it was warm weather because it's cooler) because she sort of wanted to fit in more and be accepted as a warrior. Now, approaching 60 and coming out of puberty, she's becoming a lot more brazen about her sexuality, showing off being a woman rather than hiding it.

Right,** swearing**. In the past chapters I've been umming and ahhing about whether or not such expletives would exist in Middle Earth particularly the 'f word'. You should know by now from my Author's Notes that I have absolutely no reserve with my swears and sometimes they would swear in my head (not as much as I do) but sometimes the f word would slip into an angry statement and I'd have to stop and ponder. Yes they'd have their Khuzdul curses but after some research having found out that it can be originated to latin so I assume it was used and spoken in the Anglo-Saxon and Middle Ages eras so yeah, I've decided that fuck in Middle Earth exists. They won't be swearing as much as me though, thank fuck.

(If you're somehow offended then you really shouldn't be reading an M rated fanfiction. Just saying.)

There's always that one fucking asshole of a child that you want to just slap. (I'm not fond of children this age unless they're adorable.) Being around 30 they're about 9/10 ish in human years. In my head she did initially berate him more, embarrassed him cos she's pissed off and maybe threatened him a little but then I thought Nah, it'd be neither noble or honorable to scare and threaten children in dwarven society no matter how much of little shits they are.

I watched Centurion recently because I saw some edits on Tumblr for it and I felt so conflicted because on one hand I was rooting for the Romans but then I was also rooting for Etain who is such a delicious bamf. Etain would definitely be Iarí's idol.

**Fanfic recommendation**: Go read **Debts Repaid** by** crayonboxromance.** I love it. It's light hearted, has loads of references within it and the narrative has me laughing so hard sometimes. And for extra brownie points it's a Fili fic !

_**Shazara -**_Silence

**Thank you so much for reading! Review and let me know what you think x**


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